


heaven help the fool who falls in love

by CourtneyCourtney



Series: Stubborn Love [2]
Category: Bob's Burgers (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Illegal Activities, Male-Female Friendship, Pining, References to Illness, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 07:03:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 34,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11202891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourtneyCourtney/pseuds/CourtneyCourtney
Summary: Louise sighs heavily, flopping back onto the floor. "I can't believe I Like-Like someone who seriously once said the sentence 'Math is fun' and meant it.""Not to say we told you so, because that's mean and condescending," Tina rambles, "but like, we knew this was coming and tried to tell you about it in the past. So… yeah.""Young emotions," Gene wails, plunking out a simple tune, "playin' fast 'n loose. Finding love in the Juice Caboose!"Louise rips the keytar out of his hands and smacks him with it.(or, Louise tries to rationalize her relationship with Regular-Sized Rudy, and her family is the worst kind of help)





	1. When I Was Younger (should have known better)

**Author's Note:**

> Did anyone notice the time I accidentally published this story when it was still in draft form last year? It was _not an illusion_ , merely human error!
> 
> The plot of this story is basically an expansion of _Be My Thrill_ (from Louise's POV though), so read that one first if you haven't already.
> 
> I'm sorry this author's note is so long, but I have a lot to say (also evidenced by the length of this fucking monster). I've had all these bits and pieces of story drafted since May of 2016, but they just weren't fitting together, or at least, not in the ways I wanted them to. (I wanted to post it as one chapter, too, but a few months ago I realized it would be obnoxiously long, and I had a natural breaking point in there.) I actually had to grow as a person in the real world and face some uncomfortable shit about myself in order to be able to get the ball rolling and stitch it all together right. And that's... really weird in the context of this being _Bob's Burgers_ fanfiction, and it probably isn't what people were expecting based on the first fic in this series. But hey. We all do weird stuff for art. And it really is the best when the creative process challenges us to better ourselves.
> 
> Title from The Lumineer's "Ophelia"
> 
> Take a shot every time I use the word "stupid."
> 
> Rudy does indeed say the line "Math is fun" in the _Bob's Burgers_ comics. What a nerd.
> 
> And now part of a discussion I thought my fellow shippers would appreciate which is also meant to illustrate why I still spend so much time lurking on The AV Club discussion boards:
> 
>  **AlasdairWilkins** : My 'shipping is like 95% tongue-in-cheek, and mostly confined to the less serious Stray Observations section. Though I do think Louise's fondness for Rudy legitimately brings out some hidden depths in her.  
>  **Willo** : Part of it is because, outside of the core family and Teddy, Regular Sized Rudy is the most perfect fit with the Belcher clan. He's decidedly weird, is game for everything and really doesn't pass judgment on anyone for their own weirdness. He's also shown a skill with puns that rivals only Bob and Louise. ("And I'm Kate Bush!") And absolutely, Louise's fondness for Regular Sized Rudy brings out hidden depths for the character. "Dear sweet Rudy, you won't live to see the end."

 

 **Gene** : I get it - your seething drive and Rudy's raw animal magnetism. Sparks are gonna fly.

 **Tina** : In a world of mystery, danger, and mutual respect, emotions run wild - friends become... more than friends.

 **Louise** : Sick! Both of you stop. Just tell me what happens, you hack!

             - “Louise's Unsolved Mysteries & Curious Curiosities present: The Why Files,” _Bob's Burgers Comic #8_

 

 

“You’re in my spot.”

The new kid doesn’t startle, turning calmly to look up at Louise. His orange hair is buzzed too close to his scalp; his nose is too big for the rest of his face, and his ears stick out in a way that makes Louise irrationally angry. He looks stupid, and Louise hates stupid.

“Huh?” he says stupidly.

Louise plants her hands on her hips. “ _My_ seat,” she replies. “You are in it.”

New Kid frowns. “No it isn’t, Ms. Graham just assigned me to it.”

Louise sighs. Figures. “Look, I know you’re new here,” she says, fake comfortingly. She puts a hand on his arm and everything. “It’s okay, you didn’t know. But I always sit here. Them’s the rules, the natural order of things.” This seat is in the exact middle of the classroom and thus affords her the best view of everything and everyone except those paste-eaters in the back row. Louise has to be on top of things, has to be able to keep tabs on the comings and goings, not to mention be able to see out the window without being overly obvious. New Kid is messing with the wrong person’s territory.

New Kid doesn’t budge. “Sorry, but the teacher told me to sit here, so I’m going to sit here.”

“Fine,” says Louise before looping both her arms around his left arm and yanking. The boy yelps in surprise as Louise leans backward, managing to pull him a little ways into the aisle. He gets with the program quickly though and grabs onto the desktop with his right arm for leverage.

“Get out of my spot!” Louise grunts. She weighs her options. On one hand, she can keep pulling and hopefully yank New Kid’s arm of its socket. It’s obviously the more permanent solution. On the other hand, she can try letting go and tackling him out of his seat in the opposite direction. He’s already bracing himself for this angle of attack; he’d probably go down easy. Worst case scenario, Louise guesses she could just sit on top of him. He looks sturdy.

“ _Louise!_ ” Ms. Graham’s reappearance at the front of the room prevents her from deciding. “Stop that right now!”

Louise stops pulling, but she doesn’t let go of New Kid’s arm. That seems to appease the witch, because their teacher beams and claps her hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Alright class,” Ms. Graham chirps, “now I know it’s a little unusual this far into the year, but we have a new student joining us today! Rudolph, why don’t you come up here and tell us all a little bit about yourself.”

New Kid gets up and does, like a chump, and Louise hops into the now-empty seat.

"Hi, my name is Rudy," the boy says with a friendly wave. Louise grunts, but she has to give him props for facing all these new dolts without stuttering or wetting himself. It seems like such a low bar to clear for first graders, and yet Louise is routinely disappointed. "I like pretzels and dolphins and the color blue and slides."

"Laaaaame," Louise sighs amidst a chorus of "ooh"s and "ahh"s. Nothing. This kid brings nothing to the table. Seriously, the color blue? Original.

"Very nice," Ms. Graham coos.

“I like ‘Unsolved Mysteries’ on PBS on Wednesday night,” Rudy continues. “The one last week had this guy who lost two of his fingers because – ”

“What?” Ms. Graham trills before covering her outburst with a laugh, sharp and brittle. “Thank you, Rudy, that’s… That’s enough.”

“The weird part was that his blood was – ”

“ _Enough_ , Rudolph,” Ms. Graham interjects.

It’s _not_ enough, thinks Louise. They could have been onto something cool there with the blood talk, but Rudy _has to be_ the kind of kid to listen to his elders and clam up when told they’ve heard enough. Maybe he could have been interesting, but he isn’t, Louise decides. At least Ms. Graham reassigns him to the front row so she can keep an eye on him until she knows he can be trusted.

Louise spends plenty of the afternoon staring daggers at the back of his buzzed head. She hates his stupid guts already. 

 

*****

 

“Soooo,” Mom begins during a lull in that night’s dinner conversation. “Louise, how was school for you today?”

Louise frowns down at her mashed potatoes. “Alright, I guess. There’s a new kid in my class.”

“Oooh, a new kid, how exciting!” Mom exclaims, like he isn’t the scum of the earth. She doesn’t understand. Nobody understands. “What are they like? Are you thinking about makin’ a new friend, maybe?” She beams at Louise. Gag.

“I’m gonna fight him,” Louise replies.

“Louise,” her dad says with a sigh, “please don’t fight the new kid.”

Louise flings her fork to the table. “Well how else am I gonna assert my dominance?”

“What?” says her dad.

“ _Rap battle_!” says Gene at the same time.

"No," says Daddy.

"No, this is great," Gene counters, "my personality plus Tina’s wordpower will easily give you the edge you need to win. For example." He turns to his right, pointing at their eldest sister with his fork. "Tina, freestyle!"

Tina drops her spoon, and it clatters off under the table. “Uhhhhh…”

Gene dismisses her with a wave of his hand. “Don’t worry, we’ll work on it. We’ll get this all organized and get back to you, Dad.”

“Don’t,” their dad says.

“Louise, don’t fight the new kid,” Mom says. "Not unless he provokes you first."

"Lin, no," says Daddy.

“What, I don’t want my baby to think she can’t stand up for herself,” Mom argues.

Louise hums in thought. New Kid seems kind of slow, but she can probably annoy him into making the first move. That's great advice, actually -- who's going to question a little girl, humbly standing up for herself at the threat of a scary, dangerous new boy no one knows that well yet? She picks up her fork again. She can totally do that.

 

 *****

 

“Okay,” Louise whispers as she walks to school between her brother and sister the next morning, “here’s the plan. We find New Kid. We get into position, and you two help me set the scene to make it look like he pushed me down. We all insist he did it even though he didn't, he gets angry enough to blow his lid, he gets detention."

“Question,” says Gene. "What's my motivation?"

"I'm giving you what's left of my Halloween candy," Louise tells him, knowing full well she has like five pieces left in the bag under her bed.

"Halloween was months ago!" Gene argues.

"Oh, I'm sorry, do you not want it?" Louise asks.

"I never said that!" Gene says.

"Maybe you should get to know him first, Louise," says Tina, speaking up for the first time. "He could be nice."

“That’s stupid,” says Louise. “That’s a stupid idea.”

“Yeah!” Gene chimes in. “Who needs him when you have us?”

Tina doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the walk, so Louise chalks it up as a ‘win’ in her column.

They're a block away, waiting for the crossing guard to release them, when Louise sees New Kid. He's just getting dropped off out front by his mommy, it looks like. Louise can only see the back of the lady's head. Tina and Gene jostle Louise back to the moment, and then they're walking, they're crossing the street. New Kid is still hanging around by the gates, but his mom is long gone. It's Go Time.

"Are we doing it here or waiting until we get to the playground?" asks Gene as they near the building.

"Tina, what time is it?" Louise says, turning to her sister. She sees the big clock on the front of the school, but she's still a little fuzzy on which hand position means what.

Tina looks up, then groans. "We only have five minutes before the bell's supposed to ring," her sister informs them.

"Here is good," Louise decides. She takes her backpack off and sets it down by a bush. She watches New Kid like a hawk, trying to find the best angle of attack. Or, un-attack. Whatever it is to make it look like his fault.

Louise straightens up, then reaches up to fix her ears. She looks at Tina and Gene, then nods. "Alright. Let's do this. Aaaaand we're walking, and we're walking..."

She moves across the yard, threading in between students, different weirdos standing around talking outside. She guesses it beats waiting _inside_ for the first bell. Might as well get all the fresh air they can before getting crammed into a box for seven hours straight.

She closes in on New Kid. A glance over her shoulder confirms Tina and Gene are still on her back. They fan out slightly, Gene to the right in New Kid's line of sight, and Tina to the left, maneuvering behind him. The poor dolt doesn't seem to notice.

Louise stops walking. She sucks in a breath. She leans to the left, her arm brushing against his, before jerking a little his way then throwing herself to the ground in the opposite direction. It's very dramatic and exactly what she was going for. She actually skins her knee a little bit on the pavement, which really adds to the image and causes her eyes to water appropriately.

" _What was that for_?" Louise shrieks. One or two kids are already turning to look. Perfect.

"Oh my gosh," says New Kid, staring down at her dumbly. "Are you okay?"

"What do you mean, am I okay?" Louise wails. "You _pushed_ me!"

"I saw the whole thing!" comes Gene's voice from among the crowd. "It was very real to me!" Over New Kid's shoulder, Louise sees Tina. She's in position, but she hasn't said a peep. _Someone_ isn't getting Louise's leftover candy, that's for sure.

New Kid kneels down on the ground beside her. "It was an accident," he says in a rush, grabbing for Louise's arm. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you! Are you okay?"

Louise shoves him away and starts to hiccup. "You _pushed_ me!" More people are starting to look. Louise has this _made_.

"No, I didn't!" New Kid protests. He tries again, getting a grip on Louise's left wrist. "Please stand up so I know you're okay!"

Louise takes a deep breath, getting ready to really bring it home. "HE - "

She glances up as the doors to Wagstaff open, and the scream dies in her throat. "Aw, crap." She scrambles to her feet, wrist still caught in the new kid's clutch. Scurrying back toward where she left her pack, Louise has no choice but to take his hand and drag him along, ducking her head despite knowing her pink bunny ears will give away her position.

Because it's one thing to frame New Kid and leave him at the mercy of other teachers. Most of them are apathetic about their students' personal lives. The plan was to have one of them deal with New Kid, haul him to the principal's office, no questions asked.

It's an entirely different thing when the 'teacher' coming out of those doors to investigate is _Mr. Frond_.

Louise crawls under the bush entirely as the bell rings.

"Why are we hiding?" Looking to her left, Louise realizes New Kid has joined her under the shrub. His hand is still wrapped around her wrist. Louise shakes him loose.

"Nothing, it's just..." She growls in disgust, peering through the bush. She can see Frond's ugly mug looking out around the sea of kids. He's asking some of the ones on the stairs what they saw, if they can name names probably. "Mr. Frond is the actual worst," she says, not sure why she's telling him. She can't _not_ say anything though. "He's so into figuring out what's _wrong_ with students. Like he turns every little thing into a whole production, and he asks a million questions about 'how does that make you _feel_?' and 'why did you _react_ like that?' " She wants to get New Kid in _trouble_ , not Frond's special brand of idiocy.

A familiar pair of black high tops come into view on the ground in front of the shrub. "You guys can come out now," her sister whispers. "Gene and I will cover for you to get to class."

Louise pushes her backpack out first then follows, New Kid on her heels. "Thanks, T. We'll regroup at lunch."

"What are we regrouping for?" New Kid asks.

"Not you," Louise snipes. She pretends not to feel bad about how his face falls. "Don't worry about it."

She makes her way to the classroom slowly, not in a rush to start her sentence. New Kid's moving pretty slow, too. She can respect that, even if she doesn't like him.

She can get him in homeroom, Louise decides. Faking an attack indoors might be trickier, especially when they're expected to sit like all the time, but she'll have a more focused group of witnesses.

Louise spends the whole morning waiting for him to slip up. Nothing. She's stuck staring at the back of his orange head for hours, barely listening to Ms. Graham's droning. She can't find him at recess, even though she knows he left the classroom with everyone else. She tries getting excused to use the bathroom, thinking she can pretend New Kid tripped her on the way out, but she's cruelly denied the privilege since it's almost lunchtime. 

Whatever. She can make a _real_ spectacle in the cafeteria.

"I don't understand what's happening," says Gene as soon as Louise sees him. "We're flying blind here, Goose!"

"Alright," says Louise, grabbing a tray and getting in line, "so I don't have a plan, per se. I'm just gonna... improv."

"Hmm," says Gene. "Like Scenes From a Hat? Who do we know with a hat around here?"

"I like this plan," says Tina, spooking Louise in the process. She hadn't even seen her sister standing at the end of the line, tray full of food in hand. "Why don't you just go over there where he's sitting and see where the muses take you."

Louise follows Tina's gaze. New Kid's by himself across the room, tray of food sitting on the table in front of him. He's reading a book, and oh man, Louise might actually feel bad about this.

"You know what?" Louise turns to meet her sister's stare. "I will."

She doesn't know what's going to happen, but she marches over. She stops, standing across the table from New Kid. He looks up with a sunny smile.

"Oh," he says. "Hey, Louise."

"Hi... Kid." Louise cringes a bit at her own words.

"Rudy," he says, and yes. Right. Rudolph was his name-o. The Christmas carol immediately enters her head, and Louise thinks about how he went missing around recess. And now he's sitting alone, no one trying to get to know him like they usually do when new students come to Wagstaff. _They never let poor Rudolph join in any reindeer games_. Maybe that's what gets to her about the situation.

"So..." She shifts in place, not willing to sit down yet. "Whatcha reading there?" Louise literally could not care less. She's never read a book by choice in her life.

Rudolph turns it so Louise can see the cover art and the word "TOPPER" across the, well, top. "It's about this guy that gets haunted by a couple that died in a car accident and now they're ghosts, and they try to get him to change the way he lives," New Kid explains, voice getting a little thin the longer he rambles. "It was a TV show, too. I found it at my dad's place."

Louise frowns in thought. His dad has his own place? How loaded must these people be? "Kind of like _Beetlejuice_ ," is what she says out loud, though.

New Kid lights up. "Yeah, kind of. Just the ghost couple, though. There isn't like a family or a teenage girl in it, though."

It's Louise's turn to perk up. "What, you actually know _Beetlejuice_?" She hasn't seen all of it, not in English at least, and she neglects to mention her daddy covered her eyes during some of the parts she was actually awake for. New Kid doesn't need to know that, though.

"Yeah, I mean, I only saw part of it," New Kid says. "I was waiting to get an x-ray, and it was late so my parents weren't really paying attention to what was on the TV in my room."

"Whoa, an x-ray?" Forget everything she's thought, Louise decides. This kid is hardcore. She walks around the table to the side he's sitting on. "Alright, Rudolph, let's talk. Tell me more."

New Kid frowns. “You can just call me Rudy.”

“No, no I can’t,” Louise replies. There’s already a Rudy in their class, the little guy. He was there first. The school system did not think this through.

“Rudy S.?” this Rudy offers.

“Hmm,” says Louise. “Not good enough. We’ll think of something though,” she decrees as she slides onto the bench beside him, TIna and Gene wandering over to join them.

 

 *****

 

“New plan,” Louise tells her siblings on the walk home that afternoon. “I go deep, deep undercover, posing as New Rudy’s friend.”

“New who?” asks Tina.

“Rudy, his name is Rudy too,” Louise clarifies. “Anyway, I go deep uncover, I get him to trust me and tell me all his secrets, and then _bam_! I ruin his average-sized life from the inside out.”

Tina actually looks kind of angry at that. “I don’t know, Louise,” her sister argues. “That seems pretty mean.”

“Yeah,” says Gene, “plus how many deep, dark secrets does a six-year-old really have?”

“Plenty,” says Louise solemnly. She speaks from experience. Terrible, terrible experience.

Tina moans, meaning she’s still not comfortable with Louise’s logic.

“Just think about it, okay?” Gene asks. “Because I really think we can get somewhere amazing with a rap duel. Everyone is a winner in this scenario. Or, ooh! Lip sync battle! Could we do a choreographed dance-off instead? Get back to me by Friday on how much natural rhythm and coordination this kid has, Louise.”

“I will not,” Louise replies.

She does, however, spend the rest of the week shadowing New Rudy, testing his limits. He doesn’t fall for her “I think there’s a dime stuck in the water fountain” trick on Tuesday. He doesn’t turn her in for doing it and spraying other kids in the face with the water either, though. He’s smart; Louise can see his homework over his shoulder, and files New Rudy away as a possible future cheat-source. He’s wary of Millie when she tries talking him into switching spots in Wednesday’s reading circle so she can sit by Louise. There’s maybe something good about this guy after all.

Rudy is probably boring, Louise decides preemptively by Thursday. There has to be some kind of catch to this new kid. He probably _likes_ staying inside and reading. He probably eats plain oatmeal for breakfast. It’s best not to get her hopes up. Still…

“What’s your favorite thing to eat for breakfast?” Louise asks, approaching New Rudy without preamble. They’re inside for recess since it’s storming outside, and Rudy is sitting under his desk with construction paper and crayons. He looks up at her, startled.

“I, uh.” He stares at her. Louise almost writes it off as a blank look, something dumb, before it strikes her as wary. There’s something guarded there, like he’s thinking about what he wants to say first. Smart. “Toast, usually.” He plucks a gray crayon out of the box then gets back to work.

Hmm. Color Louise unimpressed. “Like with stuff on it?” She isn’t sure why, but she can’t drop it, not yet.

“No, just plain,” Rudy replies.

“Oh,” says Louise. “Kay. That’s… lame.” This conversation is an insult to her intelligence, and yet here she is, insisting on continuing it. “What’s better, wheat or white?”

Rudy raises one shoulder in a half-shrug. “I can’t eat gluten,” he says, “so I guess I like sourdough bread the best.”

"Oh," says Louise, scrunching up her face. Gluten? Sourdough? Is that a real thing? She's never heard of it before. "That's weird."

Rudy looks up at her with a frown. "Is it?" Just as easily, he accepts it and goes back to coloring. "I guess. Hey, do you want to hang out sometime?"

Louise sits down next to him and grabbing his green crayon along with a spare piece of paper. “Sure, I guess.” She thinks she’d like that, maybe. She can work with this. She could like this, even.

 

*****

 

“So, Louise,” her daddy asks cautiously at supper Friday night, “did you fight the new kid? We didn’t get a call from the school…”

“No, he’s cool,” says Louise, sliding some corn and peas around her plate. “We’re buds now.”

“Awww!” her mom coos.

“Oh thank God,” says Daddy.

Gene slams both fists on the table. “ _WHAT_? Tina and I spent all week working to spit straight fire for nothing?” He points at his older sister. “You’re really going to let this go to waste? Tell ‘em, Tina!”

“Ummm.” Tina pulls a piece of paper out from under her placemat and squints at it for moment. " 'Hi, my name is Louise'," she reads, flat as ever but with a definite, deliberate rhythm, " 'go back please' / 'to whatever school you came from originally…' "

“First of all, you can’t start a rap battle with ‘Hi,’” says Louise.

"What are you, the Hip Hop Police?" Gene scoffs

“Also, we all know I would never say 'please',” Louise continues.

“She’s right,” Mom tuts to herself. “Hasn’t learned manners yet, the hooligan.”

“But the attitude was good,” Louise adds, because it was.

"That's really just... the start," Tina mumbles, flipping through a few pages. "It picks up later on."

"Like _Sister Act 2_ ," says Gene.

"What?" Mom interrupts. "That movie was great from the beginning and you know it, young man."

"Lies!" Gene argues, pointing his fork at Mom.

"Admit it is!" Mom demands.

"I _will not_!" Gene shrieks.

"Tina, can I see it?" Daddy asks, reaching across the table. His arm has the bonus effect of blocking Mom and Gene from seeing each other, stopping their spat before it can go any further. Tina straightens out her pile of papers, then hands it over. Louise finishes eating in silence.

Mom and Daddy read through Tina's slam poetry at the table while the kids clean up around them. They wind up putting it on the fridge, "proud of their teeny Tina's writing and Gene's creative drive" (Mom's phrase, not Dad's). Louise flips through it a few nights later when she's supposed to be drying dishes. It's not bad, if you're into that kind of thing.

 

*****

  

New Rudy is missing from school the next Monday. Absence on the sixth day – that’s a new one. Louise wonders if he’s skipping, then secretly hopes he is.

“Where’s Rudy?” she asks her nearest deskmate anyway.

“Pocket-Sized Rudy or Regular-Sized Rudy?” Abby asks, not looking up from the friendship bracelet she’s braiding, and _sonofabitch_ if that isn’t the most brilliant thing Louise has ever heard. Regular-Sized Rudy. That’s sheer genius. She’s jealous she didn’t come up with it.

“Regular-Sized,” Louise replies.

Abby shrugs, crafting as fast as she can before Ms. Graham gets in. “Heard he was sick.”

“That’s it?” Idiots. The lot of them.

That’s all the information Louise can get from her, though. That’s all anyone knows. That Rudy goes missing pretty often for the rest of the year, his seat in front of Louise weird in its emptiness. Louise doesn’t ask him about it. It’s not like she cares or anything. Part of her despairs over the possibility that he really is as lame as the rest of their classmates, that he’s playing hooky to spend time with his mommy or something pathetic like that.

He always comes back, though. Louise appreciates that about him.

 

*****

 

Rudy’s asthma is a rude awakening. Up to that point, Louise didn’t understand why more people didn’t include the Reg Size in more activities. That kid was _awesome_ , and down for pretty much anything.

She kind of understands their reluctance now, but still. It's crap.

"How did everyone know except me?" Louise asks Rudy. They're down on the beach after school, a few weeks after their epic rainforest adventure. Rudy's using his cymbals to scoop up sand. Louise can infer enough about his parents to know they won't be happy about it, but whatever, it's Rudy's life to live. Besides, Louise is preoccupied with putting useful-looking seaweed strands in his empty backpack. "Was there like some secret meeting I missed?"

"I don't think so," Rudy replies, watching a stream of sand run off the edge of his instrument. "People just see that there's something weird about me, even if they don't know what it is."

"But like, everybody's weird." Louise frowns out at the ocean.

"Yeah, maybe," Rudy agrees.

Apparently that's all he has to say on the matter, content to draw on the ground with his cymbal rim. It's not enough for Louise. She doesn't want to needle him about it, though, so she drops it. He’s still game for whatever, and his willingness to almost die for mischief is truly, truly impressive. Someone has to make use of this kid’s talents, and if that person has to be Louise Belcher, then so be it.

 

*****

 

(It’s scary, Louise will realize later, just how quick she took a shine to this Rudy. No hoops to make him jump through, no tricks like she liked to play on the other kids. He just was, and she just liked him and wanted to be friends with him forever.

(It’s that ‘forever’ bit that worries her, because there’s the little kid concept of “forever,” and there’s the adult concept of “forever,” and Louise finds as time goes by that it might actually be the latter of the two that she wants.)

 

*****

 

Sometimes Louise hates Rudy. She hates his stupid immune system and how weak it is. She hates how weak his illnesses make _her_ feel, because really, where’s the fairness in that?

(“You don’t hate him,” Tina had said sagely as they sat together on the couch one night, doing their homework side-by-side. “He makes you angry.”

(“Same difference,” Louise had snapped in reply, but even then her sister’s words struck a chord, had rung like the truth she couldn’t escape.)

Louise doesn’t get how he can move so slow. She doesn’t get where his patience comes from, the way he can come up with a plan and then wait until the time is right to put it in action. Louise sees something she wants and _makes it happen_. Rudy can’t always run like that.

(Rudy can’t run, period, but Louise has accepted that.)

It’s hard to tell what the Reg-Size is thinking, sometimes, probably for the same reason. Like when she tried showing him the real way to spin the Scramble Pan fast enough to make himself throw up. Turns out that’s more of a Thanksgiving-only thing for him and not something useful for every day. It pains Louise to admit she doesn’t always know where Rudy’s head is at – like, what is his sense of humor? He’s good with puns, which is awesome, but what else? Is he just going along with her to have a friend, or do they actually have a lot in common?

Rudy also does thing where he bottles everything up until it explodes. When he’s mad, when he’s sad… It sounds awesome in theory to Louise, but in practice it’s super painful to watch, and usually a lot of information for her to process at once, so her knee-jerk reaction is to get defensive.

It happens at the weirdest times, too, to Louise anyway. Like when the army guys came to visit Wagstaff and set up this obstacle course in the gym for all the P.E. classes to do. Louise skips her designated period. It’s dumb; they only do it to recruit way older kids. Plus, as much as she doesn’t want to admit it, Louise is still pretty little. Better to not bother at all than to try and embarrass herself in front of everybody.

She’s skulking her way through Wagstaff, trying to decide where to set up shop for fifty minutes when she hears the telltale, Darth Vader breathing of her best friend trying to hide his asthma. Louise ducks around one of the brick planters in front of the building, and sure enough, there’s Regular-Sized Rudy, sitting on the ground.

“So,” says Louise, plopping down beside him, “come here often.”

Rudy doesn’t seem surprised to see her. He seems angry, actually. He isn’t looking at Louise, and he isn’t really reacting to her clever question, but his hands are balled up in his lap.

“Talk to me, Rude,” says Louise. “What has you skipping too?”

Rudy sighs. It’s a watery exhale, shaky but not bad enough for Louise to really worry. “They wouldn’t let me. Medical reasons, and they don’t believe me when I say I can handle stuff like that. I just…” He brings his balled-up fists to his eyes. “I just can’t… _do_. Anything.” He sniffles.

“Rudy, come on,” Louise says, staring at the fine reddish-blond hair on his legs so she doesn’t have to look at his face. “Don’t…”

“I’m _not_ ,” Rudy blubbers.

“You’re always so down on yourself,” Louise says.

“Because I can’t just _DO_ ,” Rudy argues, beginning to boil over.

Louise resists the urge to scooch farther away from him. “I don’t get it,” she prods. “You do tons of stuff.” She racks her brain for something she knows Rudy is good at. “You like being in band, right?”

Rudy sniffs again, just a little. “Yeah, but…” He moves to pull some grass out of the lawn before answering. “I didn’t wanna play the drums. I wanted to play the trombone, but I didn’t have the breath support. And I want to be more involved in theater,” he rambles before Louise can cut in, “but I can't sing and dance for that long, and not at the same time. I can’t do sports, period. My doctor actually sent the school a note because I tried joining a couple teams. I can’t… “ He tosses the handful of grass back onto the dirt.

“Wow, take it down a notch, Eeyore,” Louise counters. “We’re eleven. You still have time to figure stuff out that you’re good at. It’s not a contest.”

That seems to make it worse for Rudy, somehow. A few tears spill over and run down his cheeks.

“It feels like it,” Rudy mumbles, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Like, I can’t keep up with everyone else, so I must be junk. Like I don’t want it bad enough, if I just pushed myself harder I could – ”

“What, Rudy? Hurt yourself?” Louise hates him, hates how he can ever think that right now. “Make yourself feel worse? You’re lungs are about to explode as it is.”

Rudy puts his face in his knees and keens, just a little bit. Louise feels her heart shrivel up at the sound. “It’s my stupid lungs,” he says, voice muffled. “I just feel like such a burden sometimes.”

“Rudy, come on,” Louise tries again. How is she supposed to know this stuff if he never tells her?

“I don’t want you to get sick of me,” Rudy wails again. “Everyone else is so – ”

“Everyone else is a sap,” snaps Louise. “Well. I mean, not Tina and Gene. And not everybody outside of the school. But Rudy.” She doesn’t know what to do, how to make this better. She puts her hand on Rudy’s closest shoulder; he doesn’t shrug her off.

Louise looks at him then, and she sees it. There’s this humungous, massive person inside his regular-sized body, all these gobs of personality wound up in there threatening to burst out if not for the physical stuff holding him back, holding him in place. Lots of people are average, or worse in Louise’s estimation, and she guesses that’s okay. It’s stupid, but nobody’s perfect. Rudy’s full potential is so much bigger than everyone else’s though. He’s so much more than anybody gives him credit for.

As if on cue, she hears Rudy swallow thickly. "People only wanna be your friend if you can do stuff for them."

Louise snorts. "What could I possibly possibly want from a scrawny weirdo like you?" she asks before instantly wishing the words didn't come out. "Oh. Crap." That came out really mean.

"It's okay," says Rudy, finally sounding less tearful. "I can handle it."

"Yeah, but..." Louise starts to protest. He shouldn't _have to_ handle it is what she wants to say. Just her luck those are the words that won't come out, though.

"It's okay, you don't have to walk around me," Rudy says, finally lifting his head to look at Louise. She wants to look away, the ugly red blotches on his face setting her on edge.

"It's not... I'm not doing it because I think you're fragile," Louise snaps. "I'm trying to apologize to be _nice_. And you mean 'tiptoe' around you."

Rudy looks kind of lost. "Oh," he says, like it hadn't occurred to him before. "Okay."

Louise stands up. “Come with me,” she says, grabbing Rudy’s hand and pulling him to his feet before he can protest.

It takes less swindling than she would have thought, but Louise manages to get Tina and Gene to stick around after school with them. It takes some doing, some screaming and scaring of grown men, but Louise and her siblings manage to distract enough people for Rudy to scale the rock wall unsupervised. Or, well, to get halfway up, at least. He isn't suddenly magically good at athletics just because Louise believed in him. Still, not too shabby for an asthmatic without a safety rope or harness. His first real smile of the day - tossed over his shoulder right as Louise looked up to see how he was doing - stays seared into her mind for the rest of the night.

 

*****

 

"Hey, Dad?"

On the opposite end of the couch, Bob shifts, tearing his gaze away from the TV to look at her. They're still doing Burn Unit, set on a channel they only get because Mom called their provider threatening to cancel their subscription when their rates unexpectedly went up. Tonight's been kind of a bust, though. They're both drained, not as into serving snark as usual. Louise has had to cover up a few yawns in the past hour.

"Louise," Dad says. He looks at her expectantly but doesn't say more. Typical.

Louise avoids his gaze, glancing down at the couch. She picks at a fleck of something brown and dried on the cushion. Gene's fault, probably. "Have you ever thought about changing up the menu at the restaurant?"

Bob frowns. "How do you mean?"

Louise shrugs, trying not to squirm. "I don't know, like. Not meat stuff, or fake meat stuff. And buns that aren't wheat?"

"Vegan," says Dad, disgust creeping into his voice.

"Not exactly," Louise argues. "But like. You could con more people into coming into the restaurant that way. There's a gullible, gluten-free hipster born every minute."

Bob keeps frowning, but it's softer somehow. Concerned, maybe. "You're... you want me to be more inclusive. Of other people?"

"What?" Louise fights the urge to jump up off the couch. "No, I just don't want you to kill my best friend when he comes to visit the restaurant!" She realizes Dad's right as she says it, though. It is about inclusion, just including one very specific person. Rudy deserves to be included, doesn't he? "And maybe some 'No Smoking' signs wouldn't kill you, either," she adds, tossing everything onto the table since Dad sees through bluff her anyway.

Bob snorts, amused, before turning back to the TV. Louise looks up at him again, watches the bluish light and shadows play across his face for a minute before talking again.

"Just think about it," she says quietly. "Okay, Dad?"

Her dad nods. "I will, Louise." And he does. Louise admires that about him.

 

*****

 

So apparently Louise has a slight crush on Rudy. Maybe. It’s confusing, and not something she’s going to admit to herself. Not until her hands are fisting in the front of his shirt and their lips are connecting on a deserted playground after the worst Valentine’s Day ever.

There’s a lot to like about the guy, alright? Rudy is weird, and he doesn’t talk a whole lot, but he’s vibrant in his own way. If you just ask him what he’s thinking, the answer will undoubtedly be odd and a little mature for his age if that play he wrote for his birthday is any indication (and _god_ , since when is Spoon Puppet Theater something _Louise Belcher_ has an appreciation for?). Louise just likes him. She likes thinking about him, and being around him.

Plus she kind of had to, given the whole Chole Barbash situation. No way could that airhead be Regular-Sized Rudy’s first kiss, especially not after her epic snub. Not that Louise deserved those love weeds instead, but she would have at least had the decency to read the card and turn Rudy down in person. Rudy so deserved better than some girl who’d rather smooch a Beanie Baby juggler.

Anyway, she had threatened Rudy to never talk about it. It was in the past. And if there was anything her friend was good at, it was keeping his trap shut. Louise can appreciate that, especially with someone like Hard-ley Ever Shuts Up in their ‘friend group.’

“Are you _suuuuure_ you don’t want to ask Chloe to be your gym partner?” Harley is asking Rudy at recess, kicking and flapping on the swing between Louise and Regular-Sized Rudy. For as much as she’s flailing, she isn’t getting as high as Louise is by just moving her legs steadily. Rudy isn’t moving at all, content to just sit and listen. “Because I heard from Julia who heard from Meghan who heard from Caty tha—”

“No,” says Rudy.

Harley stops to look at him. Louise feels something like a knot forming in her stomach.

“No what?” Harley asks.

“Oh, I, uh,” Rudy stammers, scanning the schoolyard instead of meeting her gaze. “That’s okay, I don’t really like Chloe anymore. Or like-like anyway.”

Harley falls off her swing. “ _What_?”

Louise cackles, watching the scene unfold below her. Rudy looks sheepish, but he doesn’t offer to help Harley up despite being closer to the ground.

“I mean, she’s okay, I guess,” Rudy says.

“ _You guess_?” Harley is nearly hysterical. “But you did this whole _thing_ for Valentine’s Day! You gave her a card, and flowers! You were practically in pre-date! Everyone said so!”

Rudy deigns to look at her then. He shrugs. “I mean, she was just using me for test answers and she even didn’t read my note. That wasn’t very nice of her."

Harley huffs. She sits back, looking out at the playground with a frown. Louise keeps on swinging, above it all.

“ _Oooo_.” Louise misses the moment of inspiration, but she knows something horrible is happening as soon as she hears Harley make that noise. Louise swings past in time to see Harley leveling Rudy with a knowing look.

“You have a new crush, don’t you?” Harley’s smirking, and no. Nope. Bad road, nope. Louise stops pumping her legs, trying to get back to ground.

“Jeez, lay off him, Harley,” Louise snipes, digging her heels into the woodchips. “He’s not that interesting.” Rudy shoots her a grateful look from over their ‘friend’s’ shoulder. Louise tells herself her stomach only flips because of how fast she came back down. “This is boring, you’re boring me. Let’s go see who’s on the slide before we run out of time.” No one has a crush on anyone if they aren’t talking about it.

It’s nothing, anyway. If Louise can ignore these… whatever these are, everything will go back to normal. She and Rudy are always gonna be buddies; now they’re just buddies who kissed on purpose that one time.

Besides, this isn’t a crush. Louise knows what crushes are like. This isn’t Boo-Boo, and Rudy definitely isn’t the reason faces were invented.

Still, Louise doesn’t mind looking at him. He’s not as symmetrical, his features don’t fit together quite as well yet, but given time they might. Louise is willing to give it time, she thinks. His isn’t a face she gets tired of looking at.

Maybe she spends too much time looking at him when she shouldn’t be, now that she thinks about it.

Rudy never seems to notice, though, so it’s fine.

 

*****

 

“ _Boyyyys only want love if it’s torrrtuurrre…”_

Louise gnashes her teeth. Curse Tina and Gene for ganging up on her to pick the music. It’s inescapable, the three of them sitting around Tina’s room while their parents grind this week’s beef way down in the basement. Sitting around in her sister’s room pretending to do homework beats actually working, she guesses.

Louise looks up from where she’s spread her stuff on the floor. Tina is at her desk with her back to Louise, clearly fighting with some type of essay on the family laptop. Gene is on Tina’s bed, books and bag beside him but with fiddling instead with the keyboard in his lap. Clearly some of them were pretending harder than others, Louise thinks with a snort.

At the same time, Tina emits a long, painful groan.

“This music, am I right?” says Louise, seizing the opportunity. “Gene, what’s some good study tunes? Say, anything not on Tina’s playlist? Or yours.”

“I’m working a pre-college prep essay,” Tina explains before Gene can jump in. “ ‘What is a time in your life when you took initiative?’ “

“So what are you writing about?” Gene asks.

“I don’t know,” says Tina. “What do you guys think I should write about?”

“Write about writing this essay,” Louise grumbles, trying to mask the discomfort she feels at the thought of her sister leaving. “You’re like two years too early and they probably love that nerdy crap.”

“What about the time you figured out how to get us out of the abandoned taffy factory?” Gene suggests. “Or the turkey musical? Or getting Spratt’s Sweets to almost go back to the original Chunky Blast-Offs formula?”

“That last one was you,” says Tina.

“I know,” Gene replies, “I just feel like we don’t appreciate it enough.”

“But yeah.” Tina lights up as she absorbs Gene’s list of options. Well, as much as Tina ever lights up. It's kind of cute, Louise will only admit to herself, seeing her sister slowly but surely psych herself up to write. "Yeah. Okay."

"Louise!" says Gene, turning his attention on her now. "What's a time when you took initiative?"

"What is this, the Sharing and Caring Hour?" Louise grumbles.

"Yes," Gene replies simply. "Regale us with your tale. Become a part of our inner circle."

Louise rolls her eyes. "Beats actually doing homework, I guess." She wonders, for a moment though, if there has ever been a time she _didn't_ take the lead on something she cared about. It's always kind of all about her, in Louise's head anyway. She only feels a little bad about that.

"What about Valentine's Day?" Tina asks, mistaking Louise's silence for self-doubt.

"What _about_ Valentine's Day?" Louise feels a knot forming in her stomach. She's pretty sure she knows where this is going, but it had _better not be going there_.

"Ooo, what about Valentine's Day?" Gene echoes. He begins doodling around on his keyboard, a low flourish here and a high flourish there. "It was a day with potential, a day that could open the door to a world of wonders... or a world of disaster and emotional ruin."

Louise growls. "Ugh, _Gene_."

"I'm setting the mood!" her brother agues. "Keep going!"

"It was two years ago," Tina supplies unhelpfully.

Louise gets up on her knees and points at her sister accusatorily. "How do you _know_ about that?"

"Know about _what_?" Gene all but shrieks. "The suspense is killing me!"

Tina just keeps on staring.

"That wasn't..." Louise flags; the force of Tina's knowing gaze is too much to bear. "I mean. I took initiative, but it didn't mean anything! It was a pity kiss! I didn't want Regular-Sized Rudy's first kiss to be a disappointment. So it was like... a friend thing. A totally normal friend thing."

" _Wow_ ," says Gene. "I'm surprised you don't have _more_ friends with that attitude!"

"Except it wasn’t just that you were Rudy’s first kiss," Tina adds. "Rudy was your first kiss too. That's where the initiative comes in. Because it was something important to you, too." **  
**

"How do _you_ know that?" Louise asks again, dodging whatever the heck it is her sister seems to be implying with those remarks. If Louise kissing Rudy is common knowledge, she's prepared to snap somebody in half. Someone must have seen them all those years ago. She trusts that Rudy didn't blab, knows how unwilling he is to go back on his word once it's given. Or was it given? Louise didn't really give him time to reply back then, she guesses. Still. He hasn't said anything to _her_ about it.

"I didn’t," Tina admits.

Louise falls back, sitting on her heels. "Oh."

"Except, now I do," says Tina. "Know. Because - "

“I get it, Tina.” Louise sighs heavily, flopping back onto the floor. "I can't believe I Like-Like someone who seriously once said the sentence 'Math is fun' and meant it."

"Not to say we told you so, because that's mean and condescending," Tina rambles, "but like, we knew this was coming and tried to tell you about it in the past. So… yeah."

"Young emotions," Gene wails, plunking out a simple tune, "playin' fast 'n loose. Finding love in the Juice Caboose!"

Louise sits up, rips the keytar out of Gene's hands, and smacks him with it. “It’s not love. It’s just a stupid crush. It’s gonna go away.”

“If Rudy died tomorrow, how sad would you be?” Gene poses, and Louise’s stomach clenches. “Tell the truth.”

"I don't know," Louise lies. "I'll be sad and junk, but I'll move on with life."

"You slapped him two years ago and didn’t move on," Tina counters. "That’s big."

"Wait, you _slapped_ him?" Gene's eyebrows shoot up his forehead. "And you're trying to tell us you felt nothing? _Woman_."

"It's _nothing_ ," Louise hisses. "He can die, whatever. It's just..." She stares at the ceiling so she doesn't have to make eye contact. She can feel Gene and Tina's stares though, no matter how hard she tries to ignore them. "What if he doesn't like me back? Like that. I don't wanna... deal with that." She crosses her arms over her chest. There's an uncomfortable silence where she knows Tina and Gene are trading 'meaningful looks.' Louise glances over at Gene right as he sets aside his keytar to pick up an actual book.

“Worst case scenario,” says Gene finally, “his rejection fuels your rage into your super villain origin story.”

“Huh,” says Louise, staring up at the ceiling once more. “That could be okay, I guess.” She could do with conquering some cities.

It’s quiet for a few seconds. The song has changed, something peppy about how some people fall, some people fall apart but some people fall while running in the dark.

“Just promise us you’ll do something about it, okay?” says Tina quietly.

Louise rolls over, burying her face in the rug. “We all know I won’t.”

 

*****

 

Rudy growing out his hair for something new? It’s cute, it’s cool. Louise threatens people not to mention it just in case he’s self-conscious about it, just in case he feels as awkward as he looks sometimes.

Rudy growing out his hair to impress a girl? Now _that_ is hilarious and Louise must mock him forever.

“You look like Archie from the comics,” Louise cackles, running a circle around him as they walk down the street. Rudy had asked Louise to wait for him through his orchestra chair placement test, and Louise had been looking for an excuse not to go home since she didn’t feel like working. Really. Only reason.

“You look like Tintin,” Louise says. She’s going to crack him.

Rudy sighs and shoots her a long-suffering look. “Are you done yet?”

Louise bounces on the balls of her feet, getting dangerously close to his face. “One more, one more.”

“Okay,” Rudy agrees, and he sounds like he means it.

Louise beams up at him. “You look like Fry from _Futurama_.”

Rudy snickers as they turn a corner. “Okay, that was actually pretty funny, but I get three digs next time you dye streaks in your hair and wind up looking like a skunk.”

“ _What_?” Louise stops walking, struck by a bolt of embarrassment. She’s suddenly very self-conscious of the neon green streaks she and Jessica applied last week, reaching up to tug her hat lower before remembering she gave up the ears last year. “You said it looked good!” She knows he did because she spent the rest of the day with it running through her head, ‘it looks good’ circling her thoughts even in bed as she tried and failed to sleep.

Rudy blushes, the tips of his big ears turning red. Louise thinks he’s sort of growing into them. “It does, I’m sorry I said that.”

Louise stops to scoop a few rocks off the pavement, then chucks one at the nearest street sign. “That’s fair, I guess,” she says. Given how much she rags on him, it’s _more than_ fair. Louise could get used to it, she thinks. “So what girl are you trying to impress?”

“Who said anything about a girl?” says Rudy.

“Jessica might have mentioned it,” says Louise. She can’t look at his face right now. She feels a little gross about admitting they gossip like the rest of the girls in their grade.

Rudy unslings his backpack from his shoulders solely to whap Louise in the arm with it. The cymbals sting a little, even through the fabric. “I did it for _myself_ ,” he replies defiantly. “And also a little because I was starting to look exactly like one of my cousins from Texas, and also my dad when they were my age.” He wrinkles up his nose a little. “It’s weird seeing that.”

“Tell me about it,” Louise says, rolling her eyes. She tosses a rock out into the street, narrowly missing an oncoming car, and tries not to think about the pictures she’s seen of her mom at age thirteen. “I’m not sure I believe you, though,” she adds.

“Fair enough,” Rudy replies, sounding alright with it. Louise can never be sure with him, though. “See you tomorrow?”

Louise looks up, and oh yeah, they’re standing outside the restaurant. She frowns back at Rudy. “Where are you going?”

He jerks his head to the left, and Louise looks across the street to see Andy and Ollie Pesto waving at Rudy through the pizzeria window. “Movie night,” says Rudy by way of explanation. “Or, oh. Sorry. Did you wanna come with? I don’t think the Pestos would mind.”

Louise’s frown deepens. They wouldn’t mind; it’s weird that they wouldn’t invite her in the first place. Or maybe they did and she just wasn’t paying attention.

Behind her, Louise hears knocking on glass, hears something like the pre-recorded barking on Gene’s keyboard and her dad's annoyed grumbling.

“That’s okay,” she says. “I’ll probably have more fun at work anyway.”

Rudy chuckles a little before crossing the street with a broad wave goodbye. Louise sighs and turns toward the restaurant door. “We’re friends,” she mutters under her breath like a mantra. “We’re _just_ friends. You’re just his friend.”

 

*****

 

Louise is thirteen, and she doesn’t know what she wants. Or, well, she knows she wants _attention_. She knows she misses seeing Tina and Gene around school instead of at home, where they’re too busy with high school this and social group that to spend time with her. She knows she doesn’t see Rudy around nearly as much, and she knows she doesn’t like that either. She misses him. She hates him and how hard it is to get ahold of him in all the change.

She also hates him jumping to conclusions, assuming she’s moving the Natterer Bats’ bikes just to one-up Logan. That’s obviously a part of it, out-pranking the psycho who picked on her when she was a (relatively) innocent little kid. She wants to destroy Logan and every trace of him left in this bay. Rudy is a hundred million times better than that jerk. If anyone deserves to be infamous for something as stupid as moving and ruining bikes, it’s Rudy, okay?

Or, at least. It _was_ Rudy. Right up until… Well. It was stupid. Louise knows it was stupid, _hated_ the stupid. Because it wasn’t the gross Logan thing. It was Rudy’s insistence that they were _friends_ , would always be _friends_. He means well, always does. It’s just. Friends. That’s all they’ll ever be.

And it wasn’t her fault, necessarily. But Louise asked him all those years ago not to tell anyone about their kiss. They never speak of it, and yet, it happened. Why hasn’t he ever mentioned it? What if he didn’t like it? What if he was embarrassed that his first non-parents-and-grandparents kiss was with Louise Belcher? What if, what if, what if…

Something hot prickles under Louise’s skin. She doesn’t know what it is. Puberty, maybe. It always feels like she’s on the verge of exploding, a live volcano, and not one of the stupid baking soda ones she can make in her sleep. She hates it.

She hates that Jessica got to Rudy first with the stupid lock-picking skills, with their sneaking out of lunch together apparently. Louise was his first friend. She was his first kiss. Why couldn’t _she_ be the first person he broke the rules with like that?

What can she even say to that, though? She can’t tell them to stop hanging out because they might start hanging out _without_ her. It’s actually kind of great, Louise admits, that two people she likes have some common interests and don’t completely hate each other, but what if they realize they don’t _need_ Louise in the picture? She can’t lose Rudy _and_ Jessica. That’s two more friends than she can afford.

At least Jessica has more substance than Chloe, Louise thinks, something other than air under her red hair. It’s worse somehow, though, to have Rudy maybe-possibly crushing on her only other friend. At least when he Like-Liked Chloe, Louise could roll her eyes at him. At least Louise could chalk it up to him having terrible taste. At least Louise knows _she_ isn’t like Chloe, isn’t the kind of girl who smells like cake and flirts with boys.

But Louise _is_ like Jessica. Her one true girl friend with their constant sniping and secret hatred-love of boybands and their willingness to go a week without showering.

It’s just… it could have been _her_ , Louise thinks. It _should be_ her that Rudy has a crush on! How can she live with knowing the guy _she_ likes likes someone who’s almost her but isn’t?

So she throws a bike at him before running off. So she spends the entire walk home trying not to throw up or punch somebody. So she gets so frustrated taking out the trash that night that she rips the bag. Louise lets herself scream then, pulling some kind of primal howl out of her very soul as she chucks loose cans at the alley wall. Raccoons scatter, and Mom comes out on the fire escape to yell at her, but what does it matter? Everything is awful, and _stupid,_ and never, ever going to be good enough.

She cries herself to sleep that night, bitter tears that burn tracks across her face and down her throat. It isn’t enough to wear her out completely. She’s still a raw nerve the next day, anger only made worse by the rumor that Regular-Sized Rudy of all people was in juvie the night before. Her idiot classmates won’t shut up about it; he’s inescapable. When she finds out the rumors are true from Jessica ( _of course_ it’s Jessica, _of course_ ), Louise has to leave the cafeteria. She can only see red, but she gets to the closest bathroom and punches the first mirror she sees. It doesn’t break, doesn’t even crack reinforced as it is. All Louise gets are pink knuckles and the overwhelming urge to start crying again. It should have been _her_.

 

*****

 

The solution is so simple it’s stupid. Slap Therapy. She’s still Louise Belcher, damn it. All she has to do is slap whatever’s bothering her and it will be out of her system. She slapped him once; she can do it again.

(She also kissed him once and could do it again, her brain supplies traitorously.)

She catches him by surprise, getting him right upside the head while he’s putting his books away after the last period of the day. Rudy’s head bounces off the locker, and for one shining moment, Louise is happy. It’s going to work, she tells herself. It’s over. Either he hates her enough to stop talking to her forever, or these stupid, pathetic feelings are out of her system for good.

The act does, naturally, net her instant detention and a long visit with the guidance counselor who calls in her parents.

(“She’s probably just working through something,” says Mom with a shrug after hearing the counselor’s side of the story. Louise has never loved her more.)

Rudy is waiting for her outside after the meeting. There’s a nice goose egg forming on his forehead already.

“Question,” he says. It’s the first time they’ve talked in a whole week.

“Shoot,” says Louise.

“What was that for?” Rudy eyes her with suspicion, like he knows it isn’t just about him getting credit for the bike thing. Louise hates him for it, just for a minute.

She claps him on the shoulder without thinking, looking him dead in the eyes. Rudy doesn’t even flinch. “Some day you’ll understand,” she replies. Whether it’s because she’ll tell him or he’ll learn from watching her, Louise can’t say.

Rudy gives her another long look then nods. “Okay.”

And that’s that. They go back to being them, back to being Louise and Rudy, best buddies forever (for a year, anyway).

 

*****

 

Rudy’s bedroom in his mom’s apartment is right on the fire escape like some Disney princess, _West Side Story_ bullshit. It’s like shooting fish in a barrel for Louise when she needs to sneak him out for backup.

It’s also a perfect set-up for sneaking in even if Rudy isn’t up to going out.

(“I’ll be back home late ‘cause I forgot I have to ‘bring Rudy his homework’,” Louise had declared an hour earlier, darting under the counter as Mom wiped it clean after their dinner crowd rolled out.

(“Okay,” Dad had agreed, looking her dead in the eyes. “Now say it without doing the air quotes.”)

Rudy meets Louise halfway that night, hanging out on the landing with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. First it was a cold, he had told Louise. Then it morphed into bronchitis. Now it's almost gone, but he's still a bit too contagious to go to class.

"Good," says Louise after hearing the full saga. "Get me sick. I could stand to miss some school, too."

Rudy coughs. It's wet, and something in his chest rattles. Louise pats his back through it.

"Take it," he says once the fit has pased. "I wanna get better."

Louise removes her backpack and unzips it. "Your mom still at work?" she asks as she rifles through papers she's too lazy to take out.

"Yeah," says Rudy.

"Did you eat?" Louise asks before pulling out the purple folder she remembers stuffing Rudy's assignments in. The nerd did actually ask her to get his homework this week. Who is she to deny a dying man his request? His nerdy, nerdy request.

"Yeah," says Rudy, taking the stack from her. He tosses it through the window and into his bedroom, though. He wheezes on his exhale, just a little. Not enough for Louise to worry yet.

Louise pulls another one of Rudy's assignments out of her backpack. She'd held this one back on purpose. She clutches it to her chest until Rudy turns to look at her.

She flips the papers over so Rudy can see it's an English paper, returned and graded "100% Nice Work!" across the top. "We got our creative writing assignments from two weeks ago back," she says by way of explanation.

Rudy frowns, not getting it. "Okay."

"And I read yours," Louise says. He'd gotten carried away and submitted a legit script-type deal. "Rudy, it's like... really good."

"Really?" Rudy's still looking confused. Maybe all the meds are going to his head.

" _Yes_ ," says Louise, struggling to convey just how much she liked. "I read it, and I mean... you know how much I hate reading, so there's that."

Rudy huffs, like he's trying to laugh. His chest still rattles, though, and Louise braces herself for him to start hacking again. He doesn't. "Huh. I didn't think anyone aside from the teachers really wanted to hear my stories."

" _I do_ ," Louise argues. "I like stories." She'd like to think she's creative, knows how to spin a good yarn. Her yarns are usually more what her peers would call "lies," but still. "Where do you come up with this stuff?"

Rudy shrugs, runs a hand over his head. "I don't know. You kind of learn how to entertain yourself when you're sick a lot. You can't really wait around for people to include you or ask you what you're doing."

His admission throws Louise for a loop. She feels a surge of rage; for as selfish as she is about her time with Rudy, Louise is always going to be a bit angry that people leave him out of their fun plans. "Rudy, it’s okay to sit stuff out and be on the sidelines once in a while," she argues. "Like, that's normal." Frankly, Louise could do with some of the weirdos in her life trying to rope her into stuff.

"My whole life is the sidelines," Rudy grouses.

Louise rolls up the script Rudy gave her and whacks him over the head with it.

“Why. Don’t. You. _Ask_?” Louise hisses, trying and failing to keep her voice down. “Why don’t you tell people you feel like that so they can do better to include you?”

“Because I don’t have any ideas to fix things!” Rudy whispers back. “I don’t… _know_ how to be more included. I mean, it’s on me to have suggestions, but I can’t always be in school, and I get so tired sometimes. Like I can’t… keep up, and no one wants to wait up.”

Louise raises an eyebrow. “And what have Tina, Gene, and I been doing for the past few years, huh? What are we, chopped liver?”

“No, ground beef,” Rudy snaps back. Louise hits him with the script again. "Ow!"

"You think no one's going to come looking for you when you're gone?" Louise gestures down at the fire escape she scaled literal minutes ago. "Um, _are you freakin' kidding me right now_?"

A smile breaks across Rudy's face, and he actually manages a little laugh, a real one, before coughing.

"I'm sorry," he says. "You're right. I just... forget sometimes. I get so wrapped up in what I'm missing out on. I forget it that people make an effort to include me sometimes."

"Sometimes," Louise repeats, resisting the urge to hit him again. "Since fourth grade. But whatever."

Rudy sighs, hunching over on himself more. "I'm so tired."

"Tough," says Louise. "I'm not leaving."

He waves a hand in her direction, blanket flapping around his arm like a cape. "Not that. I mean... I'm tired of trying to make space for myself. Like I'm badgering my way into whatever you're doing, or making you feel bad for not asking me to do more stuff."

"Rudy, you aren't badgering anyone," Louise says. Rudy's, like, the nicest guy ever. Louise never feels like he's hassling her. Even if he was, she thinks, she could deal with it, make some room in her life for him.

"Maybe," Rudy agrees. "It probably just feels that way." He's quiet for a minute. Louise turns to watch the street below. The lights are too bright here to really see the stars if she did look up.

Rudy huffs in another attempt to laugh again. "Did you know my mom used to bribe other parents to invite me to their kids' birthday parties?" His voice is thick with mucus.

"She did not," says Louise, turning to look at him.

"Did so," replies Rudy with a smile. "Not sure what I was doing wrong - "

"You were probably just out sick a lot," Louise interjects before he can go back down that path. "People... oh. Crap."

"People forgot about me?" Rudy supplies.

"Yeah." Louise cringes. Point, Steiblitz.

Sighing, Rudy stretches his legs out. He's starting to grow, Louise notes. Not like, at that very moment. But in general. He's taller, even ganglier than before, but still pretty average height.

"Anyway," says Rudy. "It’s tiring, and it doesn’t usually work, so… if people include me that’s fine, and if they don’t that’s fine too. I'm not going to make myself be something I'm not just to get friends." He chuckles. "Probably for the best that's it you, me, Jessica, and the Pestos, really. Not sure I'd have the energy to entertain many more people on a weekly basis." **  
**

Louise feels nauseous. She doesn't know what to say, or what _not_ to say. All her words want to come out at once. She wants to swear she'll include him, because she _will_ , she absolutely will. How can Rudy not see he isn't a bit-player in her story? Is his head really that thick still? Why does he think she's still hanging around? How can Rudy _not see_ how amazing and talented and not-average-at-all he is? He's so stupid, really.

She always was better at action, Louise thinks as she reaches forward to wrap her arms around Rudy. There's too much room for confusion with the words and the talking; physical stuff gets to the point much faster.

“What,” says Rudy. “What’s happening.”

Louise swallows hard, and the bony part of his shoulder pokes her in the throat. “Shut up. We’ve hugged before.”

“No we haven’t,” Rudy argues.

“ _Yes we have, stop ruining this_!” Louise replies, squeezing him tighter.

“OW! _Louise_!”

“Stop fighting me on this!”

Rudy lets out a particularly dry wheeze, but then he’s finally got his arms around her and his face is on her shoulder and it’s. Oh. No.

Louise is big-time screwedy.

 

*****

 

“Here.” Louise tosses the stack of papers onto Tina’s desk. They land on top of the notebook her sister had been writing in only seconds ago. “Read this and tell me it’s good.”

“Whoa,” says Tina, picking up the script. “Louise. The trust between a writer and their first reader is immense.”

Louise flops onto Tina’s bed, staring at the ceiling so she doesn’t have to focus on how everything in her sister’s room is boxed up, how even some of her posters have their way into the pile of things she’s taking to college. It isn’t weird if she pretends everything is the same.

“It’s not mine,” Louise replies, “Regular-Sized Rudy wrote it.”

"Oh," says Tina. Louise's eyes don't leave the ceiling, but she doesn't need to look to feel her sister's gaze threatening to bore into her very soul. " _Louise_."

"Don't..." Louise huffs, holding a hand up flat for Tina to see. "Just... don't, okay?"

Tina sighs, but doesn't speak. Louise hears the shuffling of papers. The scratch of a pen on paper. It's just. Verification. For Rudy's sake. Tina knows good writing; she's practically a professional by now. Rudy looks up to Tina on some level. Louise just wants someone who knows more about writing to be able to say to Rudy that what he's doing is good and worth working on.

"It's just..." Louise's words hang in the air. "I want good stuff for Rudy. I want other people to tell him he's doing good because he's too dense to actually get that sometimes."

Tina's quiet. Too quiet. Louise hears her pen tapping against the side of her desk. "That's really nice of you, Louise," her sister says finally.

Louise swallows and keeps staring at the ceiling. "Yeah, well. It sucks."

"What do you mean?" Tina asks, neutral as ever. Louise knows, though. It sucks, but if anyone is going to understand these stupid feelings, it's Tina, Tina who falls in love with a different boy every day and has had her heart stomped on enough times in eighteen years for the whole family.

Louise sighs. "I don't know."

"First," says Tina, "access your feelings."

"Over my dead body," Louise replies. She grabs a handful of Tina’s bedspread, then slowly lets go and smooths it back down. “I have these feelings like…it's like... being too warm all the time, under your skin. But like it's moving, like getting zapped by an electric fence, maybe."

Tina hums in thought.

"Like I wanna go somewhere with Rudy and hold hands in public? Like at a park?”

“Uh-huh,” says Tina.

“Like I want us to drink one milkshake with two straws,” Louise continues, the words coming out slow and painful, like pulled teeth.

“Oh, that’s nice,” says Tina.

“NO, it’s _not_ , it’s _terrible_!” Louise explodes, bolting upright. "Everything tastes bad, and everything feels weird, even though nothing has changed but - "

"You've changed," Tina interrupts. "I mean, it's only been five years, but you aren't a kid anymore. So that's different. Plus, maybe that means it's time for a change."

Louise frowns over at her sister. "You can't be serious."

Tina, surprisingly, frowns back at her, eyes dark behind her glasses. "You've been saying and doing this for years now, Louise," her sister says. "You like Rudy a lot, way more than as buddies, but it's like you don't want to see it, or can't see it, and..." She growls, just a little, in frustration. "You have to do _something_."

It's Louise's turn to hum in thought. "I guess I could slap him again. It's been almost a year."

Tina doesn't throw her pen at Louise, but it seems to be a near thing. "Okay, or maybe you could try something different this time. Like actually talking about it."

Louise screws her face up into a scowl. "You’re actively encouraging me to ruin my friendship? My like one true friendship not with you and Gene?"

"How do you know it will ruin your friendship if you don't even try?" Tina offers.

Louise opens her mouth, then closes it. "What if..." she tries before stopping again.

Tina watches her expectantly. Louise hops off her sister's bed, then walks out of the room, mindful not to look at any of the walls. "Whatever," she says. "It was stupid."

 

Rudy’s script finds its way back to Louise’s room the Thursday before their family trip to get Tina moved in to the dorms. She sees it propped up on her pillows, and Louise wants to cry. She wants more time, one last adventure with Tina and Gene. They spent all summer together, but right now it seems like it wasn’t enough.

Louise flips through the pages, red ink politely but firmly pointing out corrections and suggestions. Louise couldn’t care less.

There’s a few ‘bonus pages’ at the end of the stack, flagged by some neon sticky notes that they’re for Louise specifically. She smiles at the self-confidence tips, but tucks away what looks like a heartfelt letter for some other day before going out to the living room to find her sister and Gene curled up on the couch watching some dumb chick flick. Neither of them complains when Louise plops onto the couch between them.

 

*****

 

For as big, new, and scary as it is, things stay mostly the same as Louise enters high school. There’s a hole at home with Tina gone, and something terrifying looming as Gene gets closer to graduation.

Regular-Sized Rudy is, at least, a constant. He's barred from being a hall monitor anymore, but he's still in band and angling to join the science club. His taste in music is still terrible. His ability with puns is even worse. His face is still not exactly why faces were invented but not the worst one ever.

“He’s a huge nerd,” Louise says to Jessica one afternoon in detention, “but he’s our huge nerd.”

Jessica reaches across the aisle and jabs Louise with her pen. “You mean _your_ big nerd.” Louise had never said a word about suspecting Rudy and Jessica of maybe potentially becoming a thing the year before, but Jess had made frequent jokes to the effect of finding Rudy gross, of only putting up with him for Louise's sake, though they both knew it wasn't true. It's a good thing Louise isn't a touchy-feeling emotions person because she doesn't know how she'd begin to thank Jessica for it.

“Hey, I only put up with him for this long because he understands basic hygiene better than most of the guys in our grade,” Louise insists.

Jessica scoffs. “You got him a shirt for his birthday this year that said ‘Stud Muffin’ on it.”

“As a _joke_ ,” Louise argues.

“Since when are you ironic?” Jessica asks with the smuggest of mugs.

“Don’t make me stab you again,” Louise replies.

 

*****

 

There’s this boy – Kyle, or Lyle, or something dumb like that. Anyway, there’s this boy, a new, transfer-student friend of Gene’s, and he’s too nice for his own good. He comes around the restaurant more than Louise is comfortable with, this misplaced, Midwestern ray of sunshine, and he actually, hand-to-God invites Louise to the house party he throws the first weekend his parents are out of town. Like, invites her to her faces and everything. Louise wants so badly to accuse him of doing it only to get in Gene’s pants, but she bites her tongue. It’s a near thing, but she does it.

It’s disorienting, to say the least. She’s usually the last person invited to such shindigs, too much of a weirdo for the jerks and jocks, yet somehow an outcast from the actual subculture clubs.

Louise has no desire to go to popular kid parties, is usually too apathetic to bother crashing the ones that sound mildly interesting unless provoked by spite. She has a restaurant to run and homework to hide from.

She also has an older brother to support, though. She guesses.

Maybe that’s why she forces Rudy to come. She tells him it’s to up his street cred. She says it’s a _Pygmalion_ thing where she’s teaching him to be cool by osmosis, even though she likes him exactly the way he already is. All she knows is that Rudy is game, Gene is ecstatic, and this could maybe actually be something fun.

It’s solidly okay. Until some genius decides they need to play Seven Minutes in Heaven in the basement. Whether they want to or not. And someone’s new least favorite brother pulls Regular-Sized Rudy’s name out of a hat at the same time Courtney Wheeler pulls “Louise Belcher” out of a different hat.

Then it’s terrible and people need to be set on fire.

“Louise, can I ask you a question?” says Rudy from across the closet. It’s too dark for Louise to see him, and she isn’t taking any chances by moving, so she’s stuck standing stiff as a board, doorknob jabbing into her back.

“Not inclu- ”

“Not including that one,” Rudy confirms, the hint of a wheeze creeping into his voice. Louise is glad she can’t see his face right now.

“ … I guess,” Louise grumbles. Not like they have anything better to do in here. Or. Well. They _would_ if Louise could admit some stuff to herself and Rudy would get it through his thick skull that she was having feelings again. But now is not that time or the place, Louise decides.

“Do you remember in fourth grade on Valentine’s Day when you – ”

“ _Shhhhh_!” Louise waves a hand into the dark and by some miracle slaps it over Rudy’s mouth. “ _No_!” Not the time, not the place.

“But – ”

“Nope, no memory whatsoever,” Louise denies.

Rudy takes a deep breath, preparing to protest, Louise assumes. Instead of words, a wheeze comes out, loud enough to be deafening in the cramped closet. Rudy coughs against her hand.

Instead of pulling away like a sensible person, Louise covers his mouth more firmly, then uses her free hand to reach back and rattle the doorknob. “Let us out, _let us out_ , LET US OUT.” She can hear someone snickering, but she doesn’t care. “Damn it, Rudy, where’s your inhaler?”

Rudy can’t stop hacking, but he does get his left hand close enough to Louise’s face for her see that he’s pointing up. Upstairs, Louise decides. Wonderful.

The door opens. Louise grabs Rudy’s hand and bolts, dragging him out behind her. She doesn’t care who’s watching or what they’re thinking. They get up the stairs and to the door. Louise sees Rudy’s backpack buried under a pile of crap by the front door and pulls it free as she pushes him out onto the front porch.

She never quite gets used to it, Louise thinks, hands shaking as she watches Rudy take a hit of his inhaler. How one minute he’s fine, and the next he’s basically got one foot in the grave sometimes. It’s scary.

She sits down next to him on the steps. “Jesus, Rudy,” Louise says once his breathing is back to normal. She wants to tell him not to scare her like that. That seems kind of blame-y, though. “What set you off like that?”

Rudy sucks in a breath, probably appreciative of the cool night air. “Mildew,” he says after a minute, voice a little raspy yet. “In the basement. Couldn’t you smell it? I noticed it right away, but I figured it wasn’t that bad.”

Louise snorts. “I was a little more distracted by a different smell down there.” She turns to look at him, then, finally able to see his face in the light. “Wait, you’re lying. It was the pot that set you off, wasn’t it?”

“No,” Rudy protests. Louise doesn’t know why, but she’s sure he’s lying. “It was the mildew.”

“Uh-huh,” says Louise, wrapping her arms around her knees and looking out into the street. “Keep telling yourself that, buddy.”

Gene comes looking for them, then, followed by Courtney, and it becomes this whole song-and-dance about poor Rudy and whether he's okay. Whatever, Louise thinks. She was the _first_ person to worry about Rudy being okay. She lets them fuss, though. Rudy could use the attention, even if he had to almost die to get it. Louise sighs and files the night away under "Things She and Rudy Will Never Ever Talk About Again On Pain of Death." She feels a little guilty that the list is growing.

 

*****

 

Rudy is an amazing guy who deserves all the smooches. Louise knows this to be true. Rudy absolutely and completely deserves to sweep someone off their feet because he is a catch and a half who deserves to be happy.

However… Louise sighs. She knows it’s her fault. Louise knows she scares girls away from pursuing him, either by reputation or simple misinterpretation. Louise is strong enough to back up her fighting cred, without a doubt, but somehow she falls short of the mark when it comes to setting people straight on her and Rudy’s relationship status.

It’s not fair, and Louise knows it. But she can’t _stop_. She can’t _not_ jump on Rudy’s back when she sees him in the hallway and wants to scare him. She can’t _not_ grab his arm and pull him along when she wants him to follow her somewhere, when she wants to show him something special.

It’s this sick compulsion she has, something that comes as natural as threatening people and messing with them when she feels bored. This doesn’t make her look cool and menacing, though; it makes her look weak, like Louise can’t bear to be away from her ‘boyfriend’ for two seconds.

It’s through a series of bribes and not-quite blackmail that she gets this new girl, Janine something - or maybe Jasmine? Gene did the background checks – to ask Rudy out. It then takes most of the day Thursday for Louise to calm him down enough to say “yes” to Jenny’s face, and then they’re off, Louise watching them walk off into the sunset towards Cinema 4.

Rudy turns up at the restaurant five hours later with a swath of vomit down the front of his shirt. It’s reddish at the top and purplish near the bottom, making kind of a puke rainbow. Louise raises an eyebrow, slightly impressed.

“Yours or hers?” she asks as she lets him in, already guessing the answer.

“Hers,” Rudy replies with a grimace. He moves to sit at the counter but stops abruptly, shuffling toward the bathroom instead. Louise looks over her shoulder to find her dad glaring daggers at Rudy from the kitchen.

“ _Seriously_?” Louise hisses.

“ _What, you seriously mean ‘seriously’?”_ Bob hisses back in case Rudy can hear them. “ _Your friend is covered in throw up and those seats were a pain in the butt to replace the first time. Literally.”_

Louise’s retort is cut off by the sound of the bathroom door opening. Rudy re-emerges, shirt wet but less chunky. He plops down on the stool across from her, folds his arms on the counter, then lets his head drop to the counter as well.

“What did you do,” says Louise.

“We went to a movie,” replies Rudy.

“Uh-huh,” says Louise, nodding though he can’t see her.

“It was…” Rudy lifts his head, rubbing his face with both hands. “Nice, I guess. Kind of boring, though. So we went to the pier.”

“Huh,” says Louise, resisting the rising urge to strangle something. The pier is _their_ thing, hers and Rudy’s, not Rudy’s and this Janis girl’s.

“We got… she had a snow cone while we walked around and talked, and we shared some cotton candy on the boardwalk.”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” says Louise. “I’m following.”

Rudy lets his head fall back to the counter. “Then we went on the Scramble Pan.”

“Uh-hu—oh,” says Louise. “ _Oh_ , Rudy, _no_.”

“I screwed up,” Rudy groans into his arms.

“Well yeah,” Louise replies. “There was a definitely an element of… not-goodness there, and in thinking someone less cool than you could handle the Scramble on a full stomach. But, there’s always next time?” She doesn’t mean for it to be a question, but Louise can’t quite muster up the enthusiasm to make it motivational, so. A for effort.

“There won’t be a next time,” Rudy grumbles, sitting up while rubbing at his face.

“Well maybe not with Janine,” Louise counters. “But like, there’s other fish in the sea.”

“No, Louise,” Rudy says firmly. He looks her in the eyes. “I don’t want that.”

Louise wants to slam her head on the counter. Of course – it’s the bounce house all over again. She misread the signs and pushed something Rudy didn’t want on him.

“Okay,” says Louise, finding it easier to talk straight with a counter physically separating them. “Okay, I’m sorry I made you do something you didn’t want to in the first place.”

“Thanks,” Rudy replies. His expression softens. “It’s fine, though. It could have been cool, I just didn’t really know until I tried.”

“Exactly,” says Louise, turning back toward the kitchen. "Jeez, you try doing _one_ nice thing for a guy..." she fake complains before freezing.

She’s glad Rudy can’t see her face anymore because she’s sure it turns bright red when she realizes Dad is still back there, fully able to have heard their conversation. Bob meets her glance for a split-second before looking away, staring intently at the fridge back there. God, her family is weird.

 

*****

 

“Cute kid,” says Mickey. “Is he your boyfriend?”

It takes Louise everything in her not to haul off and smack him. Mostly because he’s holding a tattoo gun to her arm. She’d assume he timed it on purpose if she didn’t know for a fact he was so stupid.

“Nope,” says Louise through gritted teeth, watching Rudy watch the door across the room. He’s on alert, in a world of his own. The neon lights from the Wharf at night play across his face, highlighting some interesting angles and softening others. Louise’s heart clenches.

They’re there on a simple mission. A simple, maybe not-quite legal mission. Louise is there because she talked Mickey into giving her a basic, starter tattoo in the employee breakroom at Wonder Wharf. She overheard him talking to another employee about his setup then wheedled her way into getting him to agree to draw a tasteful dagger on her arm, up high enough to cover with most of her sleeves. It’s looking good so far. Rudy’s there because Louise didn’t trust anyone else to keep her from getting caught. He also got a couple pokes on the skin behind his ear as Mickey’s warm-up. Allergy tests to tattoo ink aren’t foolproof, might be something that develops over time, but if the Reg Size doesn’t get hives right now, he could be good to get his own sweet tat someday.

They take like a second, both the tattoo and the “your boyfriend” thing. The latter has her skin prickling more, though, a scene that replays in her head as they leave and do a lap around the pier to throw off suspicion of what they might have been doing in the employee’s office. It sticks in her brain, even when they’ve parted ways and Gene is helping her sneak back in through the kitchen window.

“Oh my God, it looks so good!” Gene crows when Louise shows it to him, huddled together on her bed. “This is way better than the one we did for Tina with a pin and the ink we squeezed out of all those pens!”

“Eh, I wish it was bigger,” Louise says before putting a bag of frozen peas over her tat.

“What did Rudy get?” Gene asks.

Louise snorts. “Not hives or a rash.”

Gene’s brow wrinkles. “Then why did you bring him?”

She’s totally prepared to lie. She is Louise Belcher, after all.

“… I gotta be first,” she mutters instead, staring at the door instead of her brother.

“For?” Gene prompts.

“Everything!” Louise explodes before sagging back against her pillows. “I don’t know.” She sees the look forming on Gene’s face and rushes to cut him off before he can say anything stupid. “It’s a territory thing.”

“Dating,” says Gene.

“ _No_ ,” Louise insists. “It’s _not_. He’s like a pet to me. Maybe.” She wouldn’t really know. “I like and care about Rudy, and I don’t want anyone else spending more time with him than me, but it’s not romantic.”

“A likely story,” says Gene, judgmental as ever.

“ _Gene, Louise_ ,” comes their dad’s tired voice through the wall.

“ _What?”_ Louise shouts.

“ _Kids, go to sleep_!” Mom yells back.

“MAKE US!” Gene screams.

“Whoever talks next has to help me open tomorrow,” Dad threatens.

“I have a thing with a guy at the place tomorrow, but I’m sure Louise is free!” Gene says.

“ _Gene_!” Louise shrieks.

“ _I’ve got two pillows with your names on them,”_ comes Mom’s voice. “ _Don’t make me use them_.”

“Pause,” Louise whispers to her brother. “Is Mom threatening to smother us?”

“She brought us into this world, and now she’s ready to take us out,” Gene realizes, eyes widening in horror.

“ _You’re darn right I am_ ,” says Mom through the wall.

“Lin,” Dad grumbles.

“Then we’re prepared to meet our maker!” Gene declares, bounding off Louise’s bed and out the door into the hallway. She hears the door to her parents’ room open, indistinct yelling and muttering, and then she’s up too, moving out to join the fray with a whoop.

 

*****

 

The damn dam bursts at maybe the dumbest moment possible. They’ve snuck into the movies like they have a million other weekends before, this time to see _Paronomania_ , and Rudy won’t stop grabbing for the candy stashed in Louise’s backpack.

“Rudy,” Louise hisses, kneeing him in the forearms as he makes another move. “You have your own bag.”

“I didn’t bring candy,” Rudy hisses back. “Give me what you aren’t eating.”

“Rudy, you aren’t eating — I’m not giving you the Almond Joy,” Louise argues, remembering what she still had in there. “It’s almonds dipped in chocolate.”

“I’m not allergic to almonds,” Rudy protests.

“ _Dipped in chocolate_ ,” Louise repeats.

“You’re literally denying me joy!” Rudy pouts – honest to goodness _pouts_ – and that is _not_ fair, who gave his face permission to look that adorable?

“You’re allergic to joy,” Louise snaps back.

“ _You’re_ allergic to joy,” Rudy counters.

“ _Hey, lovebirds_!” A man behind them that sounds obnoxiously like Jimmy Pesto pipes up, waving angrily in the dim light emitted by the previews on screen. “ _Keep it down_.”

Rudy mumbles a “sorry” over his shoulder, but Louise can’t breathe. _Lovebirds?_ Lovebirds. They aren’t… they’re not _like that_ , but she’s thinking now. She can’t stop thinking about it, about how last Thursday Rudy went to the movies with Jenny, a girl. And now Rudy is at the movies with _her_ , and what do people see when they look at a guy and a girl getting their shared candy on in a half-dark theater?

A boy and a girl at movie, and it was a date. Alone. By the transitive property, here they are. Rudy and Louise, a boy and a girl at a movie, and it’s… it’s not…

Louise is standing, out of her seat and chucking her candy at the man behind them before she can think.

It gets them kicked out of the theater before the movie even starts, which is a relief. Still, Louise can’t help feeling guilty. Rudy deserves good things, and Louise Belcher is decidedly Not A Good Thing. She’s been called such by teachers and shopkeepers and other adults her whole life. And it’s fine, usually. She’s thrilled to be a bad influence, but this… this is something different. Uncomfortable, maybe.

Rudy doesn’t seem to notice her uneasiness. They spend the rest of their Saturday afternoon walking around the beach, up and down the pier. They cement a wicked sweet plan to “liberate” the Driver’s Ed car as a sick burn on the administration. They don’t talk about anything stupid like the dance that’s coming up, and Louise is grateful for it. She hasn’t mentioned Quentin the Quarterback asking her to go because it feels like she’d be rubbing Rudy’s face in it. He isn’t usually peoples’ first choice, and school functions kind of highlight that. Plus, there’s nothing to talk about. Louise doesn’t like Quentin. She likes the _attention_ , but the dude and his moronic crew, not so much.

Hours later though, Rudy long gone, Louise can’t shake the feeling. It’s like an emotional itchiness, something slinking under her skin.

Where did she go wrong, she wonders, sloppily stuffing napkins in the restaurant dispensers while her dad counts the till in silence. How did she not slap this out of her system? How did all these little moments she didn’t notice or that she didn’t push down hard enough boil over into… _this_?

“Dad,” Louise says without looking up. Bob grunts in acknowledgement but doesn’t press her. “Did you ever think about how… I mean. Are there ever just people who aren’t good for other people?”

Her dad pauses. He puts the money away and closes the register before turning to look at her warily. “How do you mean?”

“I mean…” The words slip in and out of Louise’s fingers, never quite where she needs them to be. She sighs. “Did you ever feel like you weren’t good enough to be with somebody, somebody you really liked?”

Bob watches her in silence for another long moment. He takes a step closer, then leans his hip against his side of the counter, keeping some distance between them. “Louise, you’re… how old are you now?”

Louise rolls her eyes but replies. “Fifteen.”

“Okay, then you’re old enough to hear this,” Dad says. Louise leans forward on the counter, just a smidge closer. “Life is just… well, it’s a crapshoot, basically. It’s a big series of coincidences – ”

“Like you and Mom meeting,” Louise supplies.

“Right, like that,” says Bob. “The thing is, nothing really happens for a reason. Not big stuff like that, anyway.“

“Huh.” Louise always suspected as much, but it’s nice to have an adult confirm it.

“What I’m saying is, nobody really _deserves_ anything, or anybody,” Bob continues. “You don’t have to take a test or something to prove you’re a good friend to Rudy.” He frowns. “This… is about Rudy, right?”

“Yeah,” Louise grumbles, shredding a napkin so she doesn’t have to look at him.

“Right, well. You are. A good friend, I mean. You still watch out for him, right?”

“Yeah,” Louise agrees, nodding slowly. Yeah. She does do that. She can keep doing that.

“You still like spending time together?”

“Yeah,” Louise agrees, stronger this time. They go to movies. They go for walks. They’re partners in Driver’s Ed this semester. She likes spending time with Rudy.

“Then you’re being a good friend just by showing up and being there,” Dad says. “You can just be you. As long as Rudy’s happy and you’re happy, you don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to feel like you don’t deserve to have friends. Or…” Bob grimaces a little. “More than friends?”

Louise sighs, flopping so her face meets the counter. No way is she thinking about that twice in one day. “Good talk, Coach.”

“Okay, well… I’ll leave you to lock up,” says Bob before removing his apron and walking awkwardly around the counter. Louise doesn’t look up, just follows the sound of his shoes clunking toward the door. He stops moving, and then the clunking gets louder, coming in close.

She feels a hand clap down on her shoulder and squeeze, just a little, not enough to hurt, and then Dad’s leaving.

Louise smiles a little, hidden against the laminate. For the first time all day, she feels okay. She feels like maybe she can do something good about these stupid feelings. Maybe she can do this.

 

*****

 

“Did Rudy tell you who he’s taking to the dance?” Jessica asks, slamming her locker shut between sixth and seventh periods Monday afternoon, and just like that, Louise feels what’s left of her crusty, blackened heart shrivel up and die.

“Did Rudy _what_?”

Jessica shoots Louise a frown before turning back to her bag, double-checking its contents. “I don’t know, he said something about lining up a date for the Fall Ball at lunch today,” she offers. “Some girl he’s had a crush on for years now.”

“Way to rub the salt into that wound, Jess,” Louise mutters under her breath.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Louise says louder. “It’s. Whatever. It’s nothing.” All that time spent together, the movie not-date, the plotting for their epic car chase this Friday. Poof. Up in flames. Why hadn’t Rudy said anything? Not that she couldn’t enjoy spending time with him platonically, of course, just –

“Louise,” Jessica says, snapping her fingers in front of her friend’s face. “Come on, we’re gonna be late for English.”

Louise snarls and slings her backpack over her shoulder. It was stupid of her, anyway, hoping Rudy would ever like her as more than a friend. “Maybe I can pry it out of him later.”

“Sure hope you do,” Jess grumbles before turning to walk away.


	2. Honey, I Love You (that's all she wrote)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Logan** : *exists in early seasons*  
>  **Me** : Meh.  
>  **Logan** : *exists post-“Large Brother Where Fart Thou”*  
>  **Me** : You know what I change my mind fuck you.
> 
> Writing this just stopped being fun for a while. Like, it became more about beating up on myself than about finishing a project. (Don't worry, I had fun again toward the end.) My asthma flaring up didn't do me any creative favors, either, and I totally lost Rudy’s voice for a while. BUT HEY. We got through it, and thanks a million to all of you for being patient.
> 
> Ominous chapter title aside, I do have a few more ideas for future stories. It could be a while before anything else materializes, though. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy what I've published of the series!
> 
> A two-line joke was inspired by [this post](http://whatthefuuuuuuccckkkk.tumblr.com/post/143972515033/an-episode-of-bobs-burgers-when-louise-is-like-11%20this%20post) by jazmyyyyyyn on Tumblr; it's small, but credit where credit is due. Also, I was drunk when I wrote part of this and apparently I implied Batman is a real superhero in the world of _Bob’s_ soooo make of that what you will. (Sober!Me liked it enough to leave it in.)
> 
> This chapter picks up in the middle of a scene in _Be My Thrill_ , so seriously, if you haven't read that one go, go, go!

“Oh,” Rudy says, suddenly looking a little nauseous. “That’s okay. She was never going to go with me anyway.”

Louise scowls. “Don’t say that.”

“No, it wasn’t just me,” Rudy objects. Louise relaxes just a tad. That's good. That's the Rudy she knows. Self-pity isn’t his style, not unless he’s whacked out on cough syrup, anyway. At least this potential crush hasn't messed up his head too much. “She was doing something else non-dance-related tonight.”

“ _What_?” Louise slams a fist on her desk and is promptly shushed by Mr. Polaschek and several other students. “What,” she tries again, quieter, “is so important that she threw your poor, fragile heart under the bus for it?”

“Ummm, work?”

“Okay, well where does she work?” Louise pulls a sheet of paper and a pen out of her bag. “Let’s plan. We’re gonna go there tonight and ambush her." She pauses in her machinations, casting Rudy a glance. "Or wait, well, _you_ are, I have to go home to the restaurant so I can… work…” Her heart stops. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Louise shakes her head. He can’t. He can’t be. This. No. There’s no way this is happening. “Oh no.”

“Yeah.”

“Rudy, I’m so —“ _Stupid_ , she’s so stupid to have missed it but _how could she have known when he never says what he wants?_

“It’s fine,” Rudy insists.

Louise stares at him. “No, it’s _not_ , but—“

“ _No_ , it’s fine!” Rudy argues, fire in his eyes for once. “You deserve to be with a guy who doesn’t get short of breath just thinking about making out with you.”

"Don’t tell me what kind of person I deserve!" Louise shoots back before his words catch up with her. "Wait, you think about _kissing me_?

" _No_." The tips of Rudy’s ears go red. It’s adorable. Louise wants to cry. "I mean, sometimes, kind of, a little bit. Sorry."

" _Damn it, Rudy!"_

 _"Language,_ Ms. Belcher, _"_ Mr. Polaschek barks.

" _NOBODY ASKED YOU, BRIAN!"_ Louise blares, her gaze never leaving Rudy's. Rudy looks terrified, but he isn’t backing down. It’s happening. This is actually real, and it’s actually happening.

Rudy’s expression softens a bit. "I'm not... I'm not going to stop doing stuff with you,” he says. “It’s always been about being your friend. I want to be your friend, even if we never do the romance thing. You can say no, and I’ll still like you…”

The words peal around in Louise’s head, like a chime trying to leave a bell. He Likes her. Rudy _likes_ her, like _she_ likes him. Forget planning, forget tricking him into confessing or waiting for her own thoughts to shrivel up and die. The moment is here and happening _now_. It’s like a weight has been lifted, thank you, Jesus, and hallelujah.

Louise and her thoughts are tripping all over themselves, but she has enough focus to pull Rudy in and down with her, their lips finally, _finally_ re-meeting. Finally, she gets to show Rudy just how much she cares, how much he means to her, without her dumb words getting in the way. _Finally_ , they’re on even footing again and she doesn’t have to hide from him.

Louise wouldn’t care if they were sharing the worst kiss in the world, but they luckily aren’t.

It’s a little more awkward when they break apart and Louise takes stock of just how many of their schoolmates witnessed it. Well. As a wise woman once said, “Just because you think something is embarrassing doesn’t mean you have to be embarrassed by it.” Besides, Louise is getting literal years worth of validation. She was right, and everyone else can suck it.

She’s also way too entertained by the way Rudy keeps hiding his mouth behind his hand for the rest of the hour, like he can’t stop smiling. Louise isn’t sure she’s faring any better.

It’s only ridiculous when detention has let out and they’re standing in front of the school, staring at each other like saps.

Louise clears her throat, trying to school her expression into something less dopey. It’s hard, with Rudy staring at her adoringly. That look is all hers now, and the thought almost sends Louise down another rabbit hole of giddy stupidity. Almost.

“So,” she starts, scuffing her foot against the ground. “Your, uh. Your mom is working late, right?”

“Right.” Rudy _beams_ , and how is _that_ fair? How is Louise in any way deserving of that look, even if they did just share a magical, life-altering smooch of epic proportions.

“Did you really want to go to the restaurant then?” Louise asks.

“Yes _please_ ,” Rudy replies and starts walking in that direction.

Louise breathes a tiny sigh of relief. Maybe it’s selfish, but she’s glad they aren’t going to the dance. She thinks she would have gone if Rudy had pushed for it, just to make him happy. She’s happy she didn’t have to make that choice, though. For all the grief she gives Dad about it, the restaurant is her comfort zone. She never feels weird or panick-y there. It’s home in more ways than one. That and she’s glad she and Rudy are on the same page. Small steps before they have to face all their moron classmates.

Louise hears the screaming about half a block away. It’s getting louder, coming toward them, and as Louise and Rudy turn the corner, she sees Gene barreling down the street, and it’s him making all the noise, of course.

“AHHHHHHHH!” Gene continues to yell as he rushes forward. Louise only has a second to wonder what's going on before her brother is picking her up and spinning her around in a circle.

“ _Gene, what the_ heck,” Louise shrieks over her brother.

Gene sets her back on the sidewalk, then picks up Rudy just the same.

“AHHHHH I’M LATE FOR THE DANCE I’M SUPPOSED TO BE THE DJ BUT OH MY GOD I HEARD ABOUT DETENTION,” her brother hollers without breathing or pausing. He sets Rudy down, both boys grinning like idiots. “I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU ALL ALONG!” Gene shoulders past them, somehow running backwards so he can yell while also moving toward the high school. “TELL TINA SHE OWES ME TWENTY DOLLARS AND A BOX OF CHUNKY BLAST-OFFS IF YOU TALK TO HER BEFORE I GET BACK!”

“You know this is your life from now on,” says Louise to Rudy as they watch him run.

“I can deal with that,” says Rudy. He watches Gene for another minute before turning to continue walking down the street. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

Louise smiles. Look at him being direct. “Not in- ”

“Not including that one,” Rudy says. “So…” He looks at her, then looks forward, then looks at her again. One step forward, two steps back. Ah well.

“Spit it out, Rude,” Louise prods.

“Right,” says Rudy on his exhale. He shakes his hands out. “So, when we were in fourth grade, on Valentine’s Day – ”

“Rudy, I – ”

“Why did you ask me to eat your boogers?”

“ – didn’t mean to… wait, what?” Louise stops walking.

“Your boogers,” Rudy explains, stopping a few feet ahead of her. He stares, curious. “You offered me one that morning. I mean, I know we were nine, but were you…” He cocks his head to one side. “Was that your idea of flirting?”

“ _What_?” Louise had completely forgotten about her early attempts to get Rudy off the Louise train. She really, really wishes he had forgotten, too. “Rudy, please. Give me _some_ credit.” She marches forward to catch up to him. “Also, _that_ was your main takeaway from that day?”

Rudy does a double take. “Of course not, but you told me not to mention The Other Thing.”

“Wait,” says Louise, trying to wrap her brain around what he’s implying. “You never brought it up because…”

“… you asked me not to?” Rudy finishes for her, despite sounding puzzled. 

“And that’s… literally the only reason you never mentioned it.” Louise clutches her head with both hands. “Oh my god.” He never said anything solely because she asked him not to, not because he secretly hated her or was embarrassed by it. That’s it. Holy smokes. She is going to sleep _so_ much easier after tonight. 

“I mean,” Rudy begins. He chews on his lip. “I was worried, for a little bit. I thought it might have been out of pity. I mean, we were buddies. We had a good thing going. That and.” He shoots Louise A Look, like he’s wary of what he has to say. “I’ve always liked you, I just… didn’t Like-Like you at the time. I do now, obviously,” he’s quick to clarify. “But back then…” He scrunches his face up, paling a bit. “Oh. It was probably really mean of me to make you talk to Chloe for me, wasn’t it? I mean, I didn’t know about your crush until that afternoon, but…”

Louise grabs Rudy’s right arm, looping hers through it. “I mean, to be fair, I didn’t really know about my crush until I knew about _your_ crush.” They cross the street, nearing the restaurant. In the distance, Louise hears a rumble of thunder, sees the sky down by the wharf graying. “Man, good thing we’re so much smarter now, huh?”

Rudy shrugs, shoulder moving against hers. “We got here eventually,” he says with a smile.

Louise frowns up at him. “Yeah, but it could have been a lot sooner.” She doesn’t get where his patience comes from – like, waiting for stuff to pay off is fine, but he could have spoken up a lot sooner, especially since Louise knows she would have said yes.

Still. They come to a stop outside of Bob’s Burgers, and Louise gets this weird flash of empathy that only seems to strike when she’s at the restaurant or at home. Rudy didn’t know she would say yes. Heck, she didn’t know Rudy would say yes. It’s on both of them, she guesses, looking at his dumb stupid face.

“I guess,” Louise starts, grabbing both of his hands. She leans back a little, pulling to raise Rudy’s arms, just a little. Thunder rumbles in the distance. “I mean, we could both say it in the future. What we’re thinking about. If we’re thinking about stuff like this.”

Rudy smiles. “Hey, Louise?”

Louise is pretty sure she knows what’s coming, but it’s Rudy so. She wants to see what he does anyway. “What.”

Rudy pulls her forward, leans in close and kisses her square on the lips. It’s almost even better than the one in detention, softer than the anger-spurred smooch Louise initiated. She likes it. She likes _him_.

As they pull apart, Louise sees Mort spitting his coffee out in shock inside the restaurant. Teddy, Mom, and Dad don’t seem to have noticed anything, though.

“Maybe we pull back on the PDA for now,” Louise suggests, taking his hand as they enter with the jingling of the doorbell.

Rudy glances back outside as lightning splits the sky. “I think we might be a little late on that,” he says, squeezing her fingers.

 

*****

 

The rain comes in earnest once they're inside, thunder and lightning splintering the early evening. The wind picks up, and there's a scrolling banner on the TV that may or may not signal a hurricane watch.

Louise couldn't care less. Rudy's here, the storm giving him an excuse to stay put. Louise can’t stop looking at him from across the booth.

“Let’s not tell anyone right away,” Louise says, voice steady but barely above a whisper. “Not like… I mean.” She chews on her thumbnail, trying to organize her thoughts. Rudy thankfully lets her. “Let's see how it goes. If we decide things are too weird on the romance front, then we can call it off, no problem.”

Rudy nods and keeps folding and unfolding the same napkin on the table. They’ve both been talking quieter than usual, reverent of this strange new situation. Louise feels like it’s a bubble that could burst at any moment, that could float away on the tiniest gust of wind. She wants to slap him. She wants to kiss him again, just because she can. 

Instead she raps her knuckles on the table, thinking for a long minute before her next words tumble out. “Except Gene, and Tina.”

Rudy nods again, eyes brightening a bit. “Right, right. But like, not my parents.” He smiles ruefully. “They worry too much.”

Louise snorts, assuming that’s code for _they still don’t like you_. "Are they still blaming me for you breaking your leg in seventh grade? Because I maintain that the rabbi pushed me."

"I don't think they are," Rudy replies, "and I maintain that that was an exceptional bar mitzvah."

"Good, good," says Louise. She smiles, then shakes it away, becoming serious once more. “We're not telling  _my_ parents either.”

Rudy raises an eyebrow. “Your parents? But they’re so co- ”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Louise interjects, eyes darting to look at her folks across the room. The storm had scared off any potential customers and 'trapped' their usuals inside. Teddy is telling them a story, gesticulating wildly. Mom is asking loud questions, and Dad and Mort are silent but nodding at the right beats. The Burger of the Day is, according to the board, "Kimchi-ters Never Prosper," leading Louise to believe Dad got into it again with Jimmy Pesto earlier, god bless him. “Except maybe Dad. _Maybe_. He’s kind of a blabbermouth.”

Rudy frowns. “Really?”

“Eh, mostly around Mom,” Louise explains.

“I can see it,” says Rudy, glancing at her parents subtly over his shoulder. “She _is_ very magnetic.”

Louise scowls. “Sick.” She isn’t actually mad. Her parents are great, all things considered. They haven’t even brought up how she had detention tonight and is now doing absolutely no work at the restaurant. Still. She has a reputation to maintain.

Plus, a woman’s gotta have her privacy. Right now Rudy is _hers_ , territorially-speaking. Louise isn’t ready for their alone time to be encroached on. She loves her family, but they do have a way of just… getting up in each other’s business.

Still, Louise tries to throw them a bone over the next few months. She holds Rudy’s hand more often when they can see. She announces when he’s coming over to watch movies or do homework rather than having him show up and having her parents deal with it. Mom and Dad throw some confused looks her way, but they never say anything. They accept it and Louise is silently grateful, same as always.

 

*****

 

Louise is scrunched up in her bed, trying to think of something wittier than “u suck” to reply to Jessica’s text of “Hear you idiots finally got your shit together :D” when she hears Gene. She ignores him clomping up the stairs, door slamming shut behind him. She tunes out him yelling an apology and a “good night” into the living room, where Mom and Dad are watching TV. She’s still toiling over a clever remark when she hears him banging around in the kitchen, but his abrupt quietness catches her attention.

Louise looks up. Her door is still closed. She hears chanting, though. It’s clearly Gene, and he’s softer than before, but he’s getting louder. It’s only a few seconds before he’s bursting into her room that Louise realizes he’s saying, “Tina Tina Tina Tina Tina.”

“Geez,” says Louise as Gene jumps onto her bed beside her, family laptop open and in hand. “Knock much?”

“ _Tina_!” Gene hisses, face stretched into an impossibly wide smile. Louise looks at the computer to see her sister adjusting her glasses on the screen. She’s in her pajamas, Louise notes, but relatively alert.

“What, no date tonight?” Louise says in lieu of a nicer greeting.

“New season of _Lady Dynamite_ premiered,” Tina explains. “I’ve been in hardcore marathon mode since classes ended. At least, until Gene called. What’s up?”

Gene gasps dramatically and points at Louise. “You didn’t tell her yet?”

“Tell her what?” says Louise despite knowing exactly what he means.

Gene gawks. “How have you _not told her_? Your own flesh and blood!”

“Tell me what?” asks Tina. Louise is surprised, figuring her sister would wait until Gene and Louise played out their side before asking her questions. Talk about college changing a person.

Gene huffs, still pointing at Louise, then turns to the computer screen. “ _Louise kissed Rudy_! Again! Today in detention! Like half the school saw! I have four reliable eyewitnesses!”

“Which sized Rudy?” asks Tina.

“Which do you think?” Louise replies dryly.

“Just checking,” says Tina. “Some crazy stuff can happen when you’re fifteen.”

“Oh yeah,” Louise says. “Isn’t that when you started your cyberpunk phase?”

Gene throws out his hands palms-up. “ _That’s not what this is about! It was a super cool time in all of our lives but you’re derailing the conversation_!”

Louise sighs. She throws a hand across her forehead and flops back onto her pillow dramatically. “What is there to discuss?” she asks, voice dripping with fake sadness. She has Tina and Gene in the palm of her hand; she might as well have some fun with it. “We kissed, but it was decided we are better off as friends. Alas.”

“ ‘Alas?’ “ says Gene. He reaches down to shake her shoulders. “ ‘ _Alas?’_ That’s all we get after five years of watching you pine?“

"Alas and _woe_ ," Louise adds, looking him square in the eyes.

“Oh,” says Tina before a really awkward pause. Louise almost cracks. Almost. They gotta _work for it_ if they’re gonna be happy about this turn of events.

“Well, I get that,” she adds finally. “Sometimes wanting is better than having. Especially in matters of the heart.”

“Like when you finally got two boys to take you to a dance?” Louise prods.

“I’m not really sure that counts,” says Tina. If Louise didn’t know any better, she would say her sister was blushing. “Since Zeke’s date just stood him up and he was already going to hang around me and Jimmy Junior all night, but – ”

“You dog,” Gene interrupts. “You liked it. Louise, look at that smile!” He looks over at Louise, his own grin fading a bit. “For real though, you’re not… going anywhere with that? It really was just a friends being friendly-type deal?”

Louise grabs the pillow out from beneath her head, whapping Gene in the face with it as she sits upright.

“Nah,” she says, heart hammering in her chest. “I’m just messin’ with you guys. We’re gonna date.” She pulls the pillow back, hugging it to her chest. It makes her feel slightly less like bursting. “Don’t tell anyone, though. Or Mom and Dad.”

Gene is on her in an instant, screaming into her face before pulling Louise into a crushing hug. Louise lets go of the pillow to squeeze him in the sides.

“Oh, I guess I’ll just… pretend,” Louise hears Tina say. When she looks back at the screen, she sees Tina with her arms wrapped around herself.

“Rudy and Louise, sitting in a tree!” Gene whisper-cheers. “K-I-S-S-I-N- _OW!_ ” Louise cuts him off by thumping him with the pillow again, more forcefully this time.

“But I don’t want Mom and Dad to know yet,” she repeats. “They’re already up in my grill about what I do in my free time.”

“Wait, just so we’re clear,” says Tina. “You and Rudy are dating now, right?”

Louise sighs. “Yes, Tina.”

“Okay, because I didn’t quite… I mean, I got it but, like… but yaaaay, you’re together now.”

“Togetha foreva,” Gene crows, reaching out to ruffle Louise’s bangs. “They’re gonna run the restaurant and let their rug rats run around upstairs in the apartment while they grind the meat. Supervise your children, Louise!”

Louise scowls. “We aren’t having kids,” she argues. “Just a dog. And we aren’t living above the restaurant, Mom and Dad are still gonna be up here."

“Dang, girl,” says Tina. “For a hypothetical situation, you got pretty serious pretty fast.”

“You sound like Zeke,” Louise snaps before Tina’s words catch up to her. She’s thought about the future. Like. The future-future, not like prom or even six weeks from now. She didn’t have to stop to think about it because she already _had_. And for as much as her brain doesn’t quit, Louise somehow didn’t realize it was making plans like that. She didn’t realize it tonight when she made them official but casual that she actually has no intention of calling the whole thing off. Like… ever.

“… Oh crap,” Louise says. She makes a fist, then unclenches it. She makes a fist again and pounds on the nearest wall. “CRAP!”

“ _Louise_ ,” comes Dad’s exasperated voice from across the apartment.

“ _GENE IS IN HERE TOO_!” Louise bellows back.

“And Tina,” her sister adds.

“GENE, LOUISE, KEEP IT DOWN!” Mom yells back.

“WE’RE TALKING TO TINA, SHE’S HAD A VERY STRESSFUL DAY!” Gene shouts.

“ _Right, and I’m sure all this yelling is really helping the situation_ ,” snarks Dad.

“Hi Mom, hi Dad,” Tina yells through the tinny computer speaker.

“I don’t think they heard you,” Gene tells her. “Yell louder.”

Louise’s phone buzzes in her lap, startling her out of the family shouting match. It’s a text from Rudy, and it’s a good thing Gene and Tina are too busy to notice how heated her face gets.

It’s stupid. A simple “hope you're having a good night! <3”

The ball is in Rudy’s court, Louise realizes, and frick if that isn’t terrifying. He’d better not realize he has the opportunity to break her heart.

Louise puts her face in her pillow and screams as gently as possible.

  
 

*****

 

Rudy's parents are alright, Louise supposes. Sylvester's pretty easy to manipulate, and his face does this amusing twitch whenever Louise calls him "Sly." But the dude's just kind of... there (when he _i_ s there). Frieda is... _woof_. Frieda is Frieda, and Louise isn't touching that woman with a ten-foot-pole, not unless Rudy's livelihood is dependent on it. It's not that she's a bad person, Louise knows. She's just... rigid. Uncreative. And therein lies the rub, thinks Louise. They've got quirks like everybody else, but they aren't interesting. They're not fun. How did two pieces of plain, whole-wheat toast make an everything bagel like Regular-Sized Rudy? It's vexing.

"Maybe he's a changeling," Gene suggests over homework at the kitchen table one night.

"Do we have those in America?" asks Tina, voice a little echo-y from over the phone. They'd patched her in for help with Algebra, which, Tina had quickly reminded her siblings, she almost failed before scraping through with a C-. They'd kept the call going regardless.

"Maybe in like the South," Gene replied. "Or Alaska."

"I bet Hawaii does," Tina decides.

"Seems like a fair trade," Louise says. "Anyway. He doesn't belong in that family. I say he belongs to me, and that makes him a part of our family now."

"Finally," Gene proclaims, "a _man_ around the house."

" _I heard that_ ," Dad sigh-yells from the living room.

" _Dad_ ," Louise yells back, turning in her chair to face the hallway, "are you still going with me to get our legs waxed on Saturday?"

"I'm not answering that," Dad shouts back.

"So at like 10:00?" Louise yells.

"No," says Dad.

"10:30?" Louise suggests. "You did it with Gene and Tina, it's only fair."

"I can't hear you, the game is on," says Dad, the TV volume rising audibly.

"What game?" asks Tina. "Is it hockey?"

Gene and Louise both cock their heads to listen in. "I think it's NASCAR," Louise suggests.

"Extreme darts," Gene counters.

" _Lawn_ darts," says Louise.

"Dark Cable," Gene chants, "show me the forbidden game channels."

"Oh my god," Dad groans from across the apartment.

 

*****

 

“Imagine if marriage didn’t exist, and you’re a guy and you ask someone to get married. Imagine what that conversation would be like.” _  
_

“You stole that from a stand-up comedian,” Louise says, turning her back on Darryl to push some used plates through the window back into the kitchen. They clank against the metal spout before falling into the sink with a splash. She can already hear her dad yelling up from the basement about breaking dishes but she ignores him. “You're quoting some famous guy’s special.”

“Nuh- _uh_!” says Darryl defensively. Louise leans on the counter and stares until he breaks. “Okay, fine.” He goes back to rolling his French fries into the puddle of ketchup on his plate. “Anyway, how's Tina?”

Something hot prickles under Louise's skin. She blows a raspberry at Darryl. "How should I know?" she huffs. "She doesn't live here anymore." It's not that Louise doesn't love her sister. It's just frustrating that now that Tina is gone, all these dudes she grew up with seem to have realized how awesome she really was and come sniffing around the restaurant. It's annoying. Tina this, Tina that. Tina, Tina, Tina. Like... why now? Why were their skulls too thick to get it before? Why do they have to keep reminding her Tina isn't here?

"Okay, fine," says Darryl. At least he isn't as stupidly persistent as some of the other guys. "How's Rudy? Heard you guys were dating now."

"What?" says Louise. "How did... never mind." It was probably Tina or Gene, Louise concedes, or just a random gossip monger who knows because a friend knows. That's how high school works, apparently, where people she doesn't like actually care about her social life.

Ever since their second first kiss, Louise has been trying to keep her distance. It's great, not being attached at the hip, and it's great that Rudy doesn't expect to be with her every second of every day. He isn't calling or texting 24/7. Space is great.

Their stunt actually got them kicked out of Driver's Ed until the following semester, so Louise is content to walk home, killing time at the restaurant while Rudy does Rudy. He had - in what Louise could only assume was a fit of insanity - joined every club that would take him and that he could fit in around band. Louise doesn't get the appeal, but at least she doesn't feel like she’s flaking on him or leaving him bored when she isn't spending time with him.

Besides, Louise has to let him off the leash. It's weird - it's _so_ weird - and she's trying not to judge too much, but she's making herself watch as Rudy cultivates his own group of friends, one _she_ doesn't dominate. So far he's got Peter (eh), Jeremy (lame), Courtney (okay), Harley ( _hard_ pass), and sometimes Jessica ( _sometimes_ \- Louise has monopoly on her time). It's... interesting. Okay, it's maddening to not be in control of things, to force herself to watch how it happens, but she's gotta. It's just... the thing to be done. It's best for Rudy to have a backup crew, just in case she messes this up or something. She can't imagine ever _not_ talking to him or him not being a part of her life, but like, stranger things have happened. Maybe.

Also also, giving each other space has the bonus of confusing their classmates, which Louise adores. Word spread that they smooched, and then all of a sudden they're spending less time together? And Louise isn't jumping on him anymore but they also hold hands sometimes?? It's hilarious, watching people do mental gymnastics, especially since no one is brave enough to _ask_ them about it.

Maybe Darryl was one of the smarter ones who connected the dots. He _is_ smart, Louise won't deny it. Except maybe she would, to his face. Mostly because his face contains the weird start of a mustache he thinks is an actual mustache. Whatever. Daryl isn’t the worst person to know, Louise supposes. He's impartial. He's above the gossip, and not as invested in Louise's life as her siblings. Maybe that’s why she says what she does next.

Louise looks around the empty dining room before leaning forward on the counter. "I'm thinking about taking our relationship to the next level," she whispers conspiratorially. "Level Two." 

Daryl hums, looking thoughtful. There's a few globs of mustard streaked in his not-mustache. “The boobie level?”

“What?” says Louise. “Ew, no. I mean public dates.” She's getting too much pent-up energy anymore. At first she thought sitting around watching movies at her place or Rudy's place was a good idea. It was supposed to be low-key, a good way to ease into a ~relationship.~ If there's one thing Louise has realized in the past two months, however, it's that she and Rudy aren't really into "easy." Rudy wants to be outside as much as possible, knocking around the boardwalk despite all the autumnal crap in the air that makes his lungs seize up. They both like the spectacle of movies on a big screen (and Louise enjoys being as obnoxious as possible in the darkened theater). She still feels like bursting, like she isn't big enough for these emotions, so it's time to _get_ bigger. It's time to make "Rudy and Louise" a big, freakin' deal.

"I want, like, a sit-down meal at a restaurant," Louise says, gesturing broadly to keep up with her thoughts. "A not-here restaurant. But also nothing serious, or really fancy." She is on a budget, after all.

Darryl nods, looking at her sagely. "Instead, might I suggest, the arc- "

"We’re not going to the arcade first," Louise counters. "Or the bowling alley. That might have worked for you, but Rudy and I aren't walking down loser lane."

"Fine," says Darryl, scrunching his face up at her. "See if I come back in time to warn you about the robot uprising now."

"Oh no, not that," Louise replies, mockingly. "Oh what ever will I do now?"

Darryl slaps his used napkin on the counter and pushes his plate toward Louise. "You can take Rudy to get coffee," he tells her firmly. "Not as formal as a sit-down meal, but more serious than a movie date since you have to look at each other and other people can see you. Probably cheap, too, if you aren't doing fancy drinks, not with Rudy's allergies and your... you-ness." He gives her a once-over, then nods again. "I think there's a few shops within walking distance of the school since you aren't driving yet."

"That," says Louise after a minute of thought, "is not a terrible idea."  Coffee date. That could actually be kind of nice.

“Plus,” says Daryl, “caffeine is a natural bronchodilator, meaning if — “

Louise turns around and walks away. “And you made it lame.”

 

*****

 

The wait at Any Beans Necessary Saturday morning is excruciating. Once Louise gets to the front of the line, the service is even worse.

"Louise, ohmygosh, how _are_ youuuuu?"

Louise groans. "Harley - "

“So what brings you in today?” Harley continues before throwing her head back at her own ‘joke.’ “Haha, I was just kidding! Anyway, what can I get for you? Oh! Let me tell you about today’s specials.”

“Harley, no,” says Louise. “I want – "

“So we have a chai latte that’s super yummy but also tastes a liiiiitle bit like banana for some reason,” says Harley. “Or of course we have a peppermint mocha because ‘tis the season.”

Louise hardens her glare. “I want two black – “

"Whipped cream doesn’t cost extra, but if you want extra – “

“I WANT TWO BLACK CO—“

“ – I can _get_ you extra, just because I like you so much, and because Ethan the guy who’s making these in the back is super in love with me.” Harley looks over at the specials board to see what she’s missed. “Oh, do you want to hear kind of coffee blends we have right now?”

“NO,” Louise screams. At least one person in the line behind her stifles a laugh. “ _I want two black coffees for here_!”

Harley blinks at Louise, then blinks again, like something Louise said doesn’t compute. Her nose wrinkles. “Plain black?”

“ _Harley_ , it’s for Rudy,” Louise snaps. “I don’t know what’s in all this frou frou junk and I don’t want him to react to anything.” She has a pretty good handle on potential allergens for her boyfriend-type-boy-friend at this point, but she really doesn’t have the patience to go through the menu asking what drinks have traces of which byproducts right now.

Harley’s face lights up, expression softening to the point of melting. “Awwww, _Louise_ , look at you! You’re such a great girlfriend! Who would have guessed it, right?” She winks. Louise snarls at her audacity. “That’ll be $4.22.”

Louise forks over a five-dollar bill, and Harley opens the till. “It’s so funny,” Harley says. “Rudy doesn’t talk about you any more than he used to, you know, but then at the end of Speech practice, he’ll be like, ‘Well, I’m going to hang out with Louise tonight,’ and I’m like ‘Awwww!’ but I’m also like, why does he never invite me or, like, the rest of us, you know?” She hands Louise back her change. “Oh! We should all have a movie night some time!”

“Never speak to me again,” Louise replies, walking away from the counter to find a seat. She’s debating whether sitting in the beanbag corner is more cruel or more hilarious when Rudy walks in, bell on the door chiming at his arrival. It takes him a solid minute to kick all the slush off his sneakers at the entrance mat, and Louise is so busy watching him she practically jumps when her – _their_ – order is called.

Louise returns with two black coffees to find Rudy pulling out a chair for her at a table by the door. “Hey,” he says, a little breathless, pulling at the scarf tangled around his neck.

“Hey,” says Louise suddenly feeling awkward. This is _real_. Not that spending time with Rudy at one of their homes or the movie theater wasn’t real, it’s just… there he is, sitting across from her in a room full of people, without the excuse of being in school or hanging out with her siblings. “I would have gotten you something more exciting but _affogato_ if you had dairy allergies or not.”

Louise wants to slide under the table and die as soon as the words leave her mouth. Why, why, _why_ did she say that? What possessed her to open their first date-type date with a lame pun, (especially since it was lie)? Curse her family, _curse_ her upbringing, curse every dreadful wordplay that has ever passed her lips!

Rudy doesn’t bat an eye. “That’s alright,” he responds, blowing on his coffee to cool it a little. “I do have a _latte_ keep track of.”

Louise snorts, and suddenly all is right with the world again. “Latte? That’s kind of low-hanging fruit.”

“Not all of us are naturals,” Rudy replies patiently. “No need to get hot under the collar. So." He reaches down to unzip the backpack on the floor by his feet. "What did you want to work on first?"

Louise blows on her coffee and frowns. "What are you talking about?"

Rudy doesn't look up, still rifling through his bag. A few sheets of looseleaf paper flop onto the soggy tiles, and even though Louise can't see them, she hears the distinct metallic _whish_ of one of his cymbals.

"I mean..." Rudy pauses, pulling free a ski mask that - judging by the face he makes - doesn't belong to him. "I got your note about meeting here after classes, but you didn't write anything else about - "

"It's a date!" Louise blurts. She'd been trying to be sneaky, play it cool by giving Rudy a note with instructions. Like a game, she thought, not at all because she was nervous or embarrassed. Now though, she's kicking herself for not making it more clear.

"Ow," says Rudy. Louise pauses. Apparently she's also literally kicking her date.

"Oh, sorry." She goes to pull back, but Rudy grabs her feet with his feet. His sneakers are soaking wet; Louise can feel the slush still dripping off the soles and through her pants. "Ew, sick! Let me go!"

"Louise, control your _tamper_ ," Rudy replies, finger guns underscoring how unsubtle his pun was, and in what world was Louise tweaking about meeting up with him on date-date? Of course it's still Rudy; he's a dweeb and she's known him for almost ten years. Of course.

Across the table Rudy takes another sip of his coffee. He still hasn't let go of Louise's legs. "Eyyy," says Louise with a bad New York accent, jostling him. "What's sumatra with you? How's... stuff going?"

Rudy shrugs. "It's good. I'm kind of tired a lot."

Louise perks up. "What?"

Rudy takes another sip of his coffee. "Yeah, I think it's all the extracurricular stuff. I just want to _do everything_ , you know? Like, I don't want to miss out. We only get to do high school once!"

" 'Get to'?" says Louise, nearly gagging on her drink. "Gross. And take a break once in a while, you know? Skip band practice, take a nap in the orchestra pit or the costume room."

"Those are weirdly both popular places where people make out," says Rudy, wrinkling his adorable nose.

"Just... stop trying to swim upstream!" Louise chides him. "It's not natural."

Rudy frowns. "Lots of fish swim upstream."

"Only the stupid ones," Louise argues.

"I have my biology textbook in here somewhere," says Rudy, reaching for his bag.

"No books!" yells Louise. "We're dating! It's date time!"

"Woo!" yells Harley from the counter. "Date time, yeah! I know them, we're friends!"

Louise looks up to see half the store staring at them.

"We are... oh. We're making a scene," Rudy states, tips of his ears pink.

"Do you, uh." Louise checks the exit. "Do you want to leave?"

"No, no," says Rudy, looking back at her. "I'm having fun."

Louise can't hide the grin that spreads across her face. "Good. Because I think this is good _grounds_ for an argument."

"Wow, our first fight," Rudy jokes, taking another drink. He folds his hands on the table. "Although I don't know what you're so _bitter_ about."

"Are you shaking?" asks Louise, pausing to notice how twitchy Rudy's legs are against hers. Maybe she wasn't the only nervous one here.

"Oh, yeah," Rudy replies, ducking his head a little. "It's fine, it's probably just the caffeine."

Louise takes a sip of her drink. "Not a big coffee guy? I mean, it's okay, we can't _all_ have such refined palettes at such an age."

"No, I like it," Rudy answers, taking another drink. "It's just you aren't supposed to mix caffeine and albuterol because it makes your heart beat super fast, like..."

" _What_?" Louise reaches across the table to pry the mug of coffee out of Rudy's fingers. He's kind of bony, but he puts up a good fight, shaking hands aside. "Stop drinking it, you doppio!"

"Noooo," Rudy whines, trying to wrestle the cup back, "I need it for my lungo!"

"Excuse me." Louise looks up to see a pimply scowling dude wearing a polo shirt and a nametag that says 'Ethan' looming over them. "I'm going to have to ask both of you to keep it down over here. You're starting to cause some of our other customers distress."

"Distresso," Rudy mutters under his breath.

"You can't make us," argues Louise. "We're paying customers, and we're the only people in here not currently working on screenplays."

Rudy looks around. "Ohhh, maybe that's why we're distract- _ow_." Louise kicks him on purpose that time.

Ethan clenches then un-clenches his fists. "Just... finish your coffee and go, okay?"

"Hey Ethan," says Rudy, "hi. Does this place have the grounds to be operating in the black?"

It's quite possibly the dumbest thing he could have said, Louise thinks, not to mention a rehash of a pun he already made, but damn it if she doesn't feel her heart grow three sizes at the lame-ass pun. Could be the caffeine talking, too, though.

"Yeah Ethan," she chimes in. "I'm surprised this is getting to you and the crew. You'd think dealing with people like us would be part of your daily grind."

"Stop," says Ethan.

"Ethan, are you implying this job doesn't have its perks?" asks Rudy.

"Let it out, man," Louise implores, finishing off Rudy's cup of coffee. "Just because it's work doesn't mean you can't espresso yourself."

The cheeky grin Rudy gives her in response is worth Ethan giving them the boot less than thirty seconds later.

 

*****

 

“… and then they _kicked us out_ of the place for ‘excessive punning!’” Louise howls, banging the last of the dishes into the cabinet. It had only been her and Dad eating supper together that night, Mom out for drinks with Ginger and Gene out with Lenny, but they had gotten creative and dirtied a fair amount of pots and pans. Louise isn’t sure what the experiment started as, but she’d call it a success. “Can you _believe_ that? How is that even a thing?”

She turns to face Bob. Her dad has been quiet throughout this whole story, standing stock-still next to her by the sink, beer in hand now that he's done drying the dishes. He looks kind of sick. Louise worries for a second but doesn’t say anything.

Bob opens his mouth, then closes it. He does it again before telling her, “You said ‘date.’”

It’s Louise’s turn to frown. “What?”

“You said ‘date’ at the start of your story,” Bob explains slowly. “You called it a date. Louise, are you and Rudy… _dating_ dating? Like a couple?”

“I mean…” Louise fidgets with the towel hanging by the sink, avoiding Dad’s stare. “Kind of, yeah? We don’t do a lot of couple-type stuff yet in public, but it’s kind of unspoken that we’re a thing."

Bob raises his eyebrows. “Unspoken?”

Louise shrugs. “We hold hands and walk everywhere together.”

Dad frowns. “When you guys were holding hands at the restaurant last week, that meant something?”

“Yes!” Louise snaps back.

Bob still looks confused. “You hold hands with Rudy all the time, that’s what kids do.”

“We’re not kids anymore, Dad,” Louise explains with a shake of her head. “Also, when have I ever in my life willingly held someone else’s hand? Other than Gene or Tina, I mean.”

Whatever mixed emotions were on Bob’s face slide right off. “Oh my God.”

“Yeah,” Louise agrees.

“So am I, like, the last person to know?”

“What? No, of course not!” Louise rushes to reassure him. “We’ve literally only told like two people. Everyone else who knows had to figure it out for themselves.”

“Tina and Gene?” her dad guesses.

Louise nods in the affirmative. “Yeah.”

“You didn’t tell Rudy’s parents?” Bob asks, brow wrinkling again.

“Nope,” Louise says.

“Are you still banned from visiting his mom’s apartment?”

“ ‘Banned’ is a strong word,” Louise says in deflection. True, she hasn’t bothered entering through their front door in years since the fire escape gets her where she needs to go, but she hasn’t been kicked out upon sight as much lately.

“So that’s a ‘yes’ then,” Bob says with a sigh. “And you’ve literally been keeping a list on the refrigerator of places you’ve been banned from around town, so.” He points at said list over her shoulder. “This isn’t really the place for protesting that word.”

“Look at it this way,” Louise says. “Wouldn’t you rather have us watching movies here where you can keep an eye on us and also feel like you’re being involved in my life without actually doing that much work?” She stops before she can add that _she_ would definitely rather be here with her family instead of squirming under the scrutiny of Rudy’s mom or being ignored by his dad.

“Huh.” Dad finally takes another sip of his beer. “And you’re… doing good with this? I mean, you like Rudy a lot, obviously, you always have. I just know how much you like being independent, too.”

Louise thinks about it for a minute. “I mean, I guess so.” She isn’t so sure about being in a ~relationship~ yet, Louise will admit. The seriousness of it makes her stomach churn, the idea of being a willing party to something so romantic enough to make her feel queasy. She worries, she supposes, about what the other kids in their class think, about how vulnerable it makes her look. She wants Rudy, though. His dumb face and clever brain are enough to make up for anything uncomfortable that comes Louise’s way. “If I’m going to do all the stupid romantic couple-y crap with anyone, it’s going to be with him.”

Dad gives her an appraising look, then nods. “Good,” he replies, fiddling with a stack of unopened bills clipped together on the counter. “But don’t feel obligated to do anything you wouldn’t normally want to,” he adds. “I’m sure Rudy understands.”

He clears his throat, but doesn’t continue. Louise bounces on the balls of her feet, glancing around the kitchen. She catches their reflection in the window above the sink, father and daughter frozen in an awkward moment. The kitchen is physically too small for them to avoid one another for too long, though.

“You realize I have to tell your mom about this now,” Bob says at the same time Louise says, “Don’t tell Mom.”

“Aw, come on,” Louise groans before Dad can strike up his argument. “I’ll do the dishes for one month if you don’t mention this to Mom.”

Bob shakes his head. “No deal.”

“Two months.”

“She’s going to find out eventually, Louise,” her dad argues. “Either I can tell her tonight, or you can tell her yourself tomorrow morning.”

Louise growls, resisting the urge to sink to the floor like her older sister was prone to do in times of frustration. “You’re so not being fair!”

Bob frowns. “Soooooo… I’ll tell her tonight?”

Louise sighs, opting to storm out of the room. “ _Fine_. Whatever makes you happy.”

“I’m not hearing a ‘thank you’!” Dad calls after her.

Louise rolls her eyes. She’ll thank him _later_ , during Burn Unit, once he’s done being holier-than-thou. Much as she hates the situation, she really isn’t prepared to be the one to tell Mom about this ‘development’ with Rudy. She had been insufferable when Tina and Gene started dating in earnest; God only knows how she’ll handle the knowledge that her _baby_ is in a relationship.

Maybe she should start looking into bus tickets, Louise wonders. Tomorrow is a Saturday, there has to be something going on in the wider world to get her and Rudy out of the apartment and away from Mom’s boundless enthusiasm.

 

*****

 

Ideally, Mom doesn’t find out about this until she’s dead. Louise knows Dad can’t keep his trap shut though, that it’s only a matter of time before he spills the beans. His need to tell her every single thing about what’s happening in life is weird.

It is, as promised, the night Louise let it slip to him. Louise knows because her mom spends breakfast the next morning looking at Louise across the table like she’s trying not to cry. She stares with these big, watery eyes as Louise works on her eggs and toaster waffles.

Louise sighs dramatically, deciding to rip the Band-Aid off around the time Dad wanders in. “Mother,” she says as dryly as possible.

Mom sniffs, then reaches across the table to gently stroke Louise’s left hand.

Louise throws her fork down onto the table. “ _What, Mom? What_?” she snaps as the silverware clatters between them.

That gets her mom going for real. “ _AWWWW, MY BABY_!” Mom wails, lunging across the table to give Louise a hug.

“MOM, GET OFF ME!” Louise shrieks. Linda’s arms just wrap around her tighter.

“AHH, WHY ARE WE YELLING?” Gene screams as he enters the kitchen. “CAN WE DO THIS EVERY BREAKFAST?”

“Morning, Gene,” says Dad, handing her brother a mug of coffee despite making a face that clearly indicates he doesn’t think Gene needs it.

“My baby has a boyfriend, Bobby,” Mom declares, right in Louise’s left ear. “Can you believe it?”

“I… can,” says Dad. “Since I was the one who told you.”

“ _Mom_ ,” Louise says, doing her best wheezing impression. It’s not too hard since the edge of the table is digging into her diaphragm. “You’re crushing me.”

“Our babies are growing up, Bob,” her mom says, finally letting Louise go. She reaches up to smooth out Louise’s hair, then holds her face in both hands for a minute once she’s done.

“Yeah,” says Dad. Louise doesn’t need to turn around to know his face has gone kind of slack and maybe a little gray. His voice says enough for Louise to lose what’s left of her appetite. “They are.”

Louise swallows, waiting for Gene to say something funny to break the tension. Her brother gives her a confused look and a shrug instead. Some help he is.

She glances back and forth between Bob and Gene for a minute, trying to decide which one of them will break easier. Louise can't believe she didn't before notice how they're basically the same height now. Gene might actually be taller.

She has an idea then, a rather genius one if she says so herself.

"So Mom," Louise begins. "It is Saturday."

"A wise observation, sister," says Gene.

"What say you and me have a girls' day down at the pier?" She leans back to look at Linda. "Get our faces painted, eat some fried food..."

"OH!" Mom lets go of Louise to clap. "Oh, really? Awww, Louise!"

"Aren't you a little old for that?" says Bob.

"And best of all," Louise continues, "Dad and Gene will be taking care of the restaurant so we don't have to worry a thing!"

Gene spits his mouthful of coffee back into his mug. "Hey now!"

"Yes!" says Mom, running out of the room. "Yes, yes, yes! Ooh, let me get my purse! And change out of these pajamas!"

"Louise," Dad starts, his voice full of warning.

"Hey!" Linda yells across the apartment. "At least one of our children still loves me enough to spend time with me! Don't take this away from me, Bobby!"

"Yeah, Dad," says Louise, folding her arms and trying not to crack a smile. "It's the least you and Gene can do. _For Mom_."

Gene growls. "Ugh, I forgot how dirty you fight when it's Belcher versus Belcher."

" _Fine_ ," Bob says with a sigh. "I guess it's nice. In a... revenge-y, underhanded sort of way. Have fun at the wharf."

"Thank you, father," Louise replies. "We intend to."

 

*****

 

The thing about dating a teenage boy, Louise thinks, is that no matter how great or awesome or considerate he may be, your date is in fact still a teenage boy, and teenage boys make dumb decisions.

“This,” says Louise quietly, “will haunt me forever. This is what will gnaw on the back of my brain in the dark of night, what I will see when I close my eyes and hear the screams of the innocent across a crowded city street.”

“It’s not so bad.” Rudy spears a wilted piece of lettuce with his fork, looks at it, then shakes it back onto his plate before trying again. “Could be worse.”

"HOW SO?" Louise bellows. The entire table of blue-haired old people by the window turns to glare at her.

" _Louise_!" yells Andy Pesto from two feet away. "How do you like the ravioli?!"

"We made it just for you!" adds Ollie.

"That's what I was afraid of," Louise mutters.

" _Boys_!" calls Jimmy Pesto from back in the kitchen. "That doesn't sound like working!"

" _We're with a customer_ ," Ollie hollers.

" _We'll be with you in a minute_ ," adds Andy.

Louise turns to glare at Rudy. “I’m breaking up with you.”

“We had a good run,” says Rudy before taking a sip of water.

The longer this date goes on, the surer Louise is that this is Rudy’s idea of a prank. He’d said something innocent enough about wanting to support his friends, about how it would be fun for something different to visit the Pestos’ restaurant, but considering he can’t eat half the stuff on the menu and the way he’s smirking into his salad, Louise thinks he likes watching her squirm.

Louise humors him with another huge sigh. Rudy had picked all the croutons off his salad and piled them on Louise’s plate; she puts them in action now, flicking stale bread pieces at Andy and Ollie as they move to wait on the table of senior citizens.

“You know, the only good thing about this place is the alcohol,” Louise begins, “and since Jimmy and Trev know we’re still in high school, I’d say this date is officially a bust.”

Rudy looks up from his plate. “A bust?”

Louise flicks a crouton so it bounces off the edge of the table and into his chest. “Yep,” she replies. “The worst of the worst. Real bottom of the barrel stuff here, Mister Steiblitz.”

“Okay,” says Rudy, “but conversely, the bar is now set low enough that every subsequent date will be impressive.”

“Wow,” says Louise, “you’ve really been going to town with that SAT prep book, haven’t you?”

“Indubitably,” Rudy replies.

Louise hides her grin behind her glass of Coke. “ANDREW, OLIVER,” she calls after a minute, figuring she should get her money’s worth while they’re here. “Another basket of your finest breadsticks!”

“YOU DON’T GET TO CALL US THAT!” Andy hollers back.

“ _BOYS_!” shouts Jimmy from the kitchen.

Across the table, Rudy shifts in his seat. He cranes his neck to look around the restaurant, glances back and forth between the door and the bar, where Trev is cleaning glasses.

“Whoa,” whispers Louise, leaning in. “Rudy. My man. Are you thinking about about dining and dashing? Because you gotta be more subtle.” She glances over her shoulder to see if Trev or Jimmy is watching them.

“What?” Rudy squawks. “No, I…”

“Ahhh,” Louise growls as Trev turns to look at them. He smiles and waves. “Missed your window of opportunity, bud."

Rudy sticks his tongue out at her so fast Louise almost misses it. “I was looking for the bathroom,” he says before leving her a hard look. “And we’re not dining and dashing here, Louise. These people know where we live.”

“ _Fine_ ,” Louise says, sighing loudly.  She can’t argue with that logic, much as she would like a lifetime ban from Pesto’s. “Can I at least tell Trev it’s your birthday while you’re in the bathroom? See if we can't wring anything sweet out of these suckers?”

“Oh, sure,” Rudy replies, swinging off his stool. “Be my guest.”

 

*****

 

After the coffeehouse fiasco, and the beige horror of Jimmy Pesto’s, Louise spearheads their first real date. It isn’t fancy, just a trip to Wonder Wharf like they haven’t both been there a million times before, but it’s different somehow, walking around the carnival booths and rickety rides with Rudy’s hand in hers. They go on the Scramble Pan, of course (take _that_ , Jeanine), and the Screamicane. Louise even bribes Mickey to stop the Ferris wheel with them at the very top at the end of the night. It’s fucking magical. Louise almost understands why other nerds do this now.

"Although my dream date would have to be this," Louise explains to Rudy as the walk along the beach under the stars.

"This is really nice," Rudy replies, right arm linked tightly with her left.

"No, I was starting to paint a scene," says Louise. "My dream date would be this - Zeke and his weird cousin drive us to the middle of nowhere and leave us there. Then we have to find our way back home before dark."

"Do we know about this ahead of time, or is it more like a kidnapping?" asks Rudy.

"Hmm." Louise thinks for a minute. "I think we know enough to bring money and your sunblock. Like the day it's gonna happen, but not the time."

"Okay," says Rudy as they come to a standstill. "I would be into that. Except for tomorrow, because I have a dentist appointment."

"Gross," says Louise. She frowns, looking out at the ocean. There's stars out, millions of tiny points of light reflecting on the black waves. To their left, Wonder Wharf glows in neon. The rides look almost unreal from down here, like maybe she dreamed about going on them with Rudy instead of actually going on them. "Huh."

"What 'huh?' " Rudy asks. Louise glances over at him, at the way the moonlight softens his dumb, stupid face.

Louise pulls him down for a kiss as all the types of light play around them, as the chatter from the Wharf mixes with the crashing of the waves.

"I meant," says Louise once they pull apart for air. " 'Huh, this is actually pretty good dream date material, too.' "

 

*****

 

“So,” says Dad. “Rudolph. That’s… an interesting name.”

"Oh my god," Louise groans, fighting the urge to face-plant into her mashed potatoes. Why couldn't her parents have been like Rudy's family? Polite, distant, never inviting Louise over for supper (and certainly not on a _weekly_ basis) just to spend time with them.

"Yeah," Rudy answers, oblivious to the inanity of her dad's terrible conversation. "My parents were really into silent movies for a while."

"Oh nice," Bob replies. "Like what era? Anything specific, beyond Valentino, obviously?"

"Weeelllllp," says Louise, pushing away from the table. "It's been real, but it's getting late and you know how dangerous the streets are after..." She looks at the wall clock. "6:30, so we'd best be hitting the dusty old trail if Rudy wants to get home in one piece."

"We sat down like ten minutes ago," says Dad. He turns his attention back to her boyfriend. “So you’re allergic to lobster, right?”

Rudy nods. “Affirmative.”

“Good,” says Bob solemnly.

Rudy frowns in confusion. "Is it?"

"Louise, honey, sit back down," says Mom. Louise flops dramatically back onto her chair.

“Bobby, I forgot to tell you,” says Linda, interrupting whatever insane tangent about the evils of local shellfish festivals her dad is bound to go on. “I got us tickets for the opening of that new pottery place on Lake Street. So get fired up! Because that's their name, 'Fired Up.' Get it?"

Bob furrows his brow. “Next weekend? Isn’t that when you volunteered us to help Gayle with her booth at Arts in the Parks?”

“ _Whhaaaat_? Is it?” Mom is still a terrible, terrible actress, Louise thinks. “What am I going to do with these _tickets_? Who do we know that would be looking for something to do for two people, two people who maybe don’t think to – ”

“Hard pass,” says Louise at the same time Rudy says, “It could be fun I guess.” Louise kicks him under the table.

"Rudy, can I speak to you outside immediately?" Louise growls.

"Louise," says her mom. "Do you and Rudy maybe - "

"Lin, I don't think that's such a good idea," Dad interrupts. "Sending them across town to a place none of us have been to before."

Rudy shrugs. "I'm sure it won't be so bad."

"Okay, well, that's enough of that," Louise says, standing up again. This time Rudy stands too, taking both their plates to the sink while Louise grabs the family laptop off the counter. "We'll make some calls and get back to you about this whole deal once we look at our schedules and such."

"Sorry," Rudy whispers as they head toward Louise's bedroom. She upgraded to Tina's room a few months after her sister officially moved out, ready for that sweet, sweet back window to be hers. She kept some of the horse posters around, though. Just because there wasn't room in her old closet for all of Tina's stuff.

"It's okay," Louise reassures him. "I mean, it's weird, but it's okay because that's just how it works with them. Don't make me go to a real pottery class though. I might have to throw down."

"Really?" asks Rudy. "I hear it's a good activity for _kiln_ time."

"YOU LEAVE YOUR BEDROOM DOOR OPEN, YOUNG LADY," Linda calls from the living room.

" _MOM_ ," yells Louise. " _OH MY GOD_." Rudy coughs until he can't pretend it's coughing anymore then resorts to smothering his laughter with one of the pillows off her bed. Louise resorts to smacking him with her other pillow.

 

*****

 

Honestly, Louise is maybe kind of a little upset by how great a guy Rudy is. A part of her always thought if ( _IF_ ) she got a serious boyfriend or girlfriend, it would be someone more overtly rebellious. Someone to piss off her parents, to be frank.

It was hilarious when Tina dating Jimmy Junior in earnest in high school because of how much it rankled Dad. Gene’s caboodle of obnoxious boyfriends and girlfriends always managed to get under her parents’ skins one way or another, too. There was always something that clashed, some innate weirdness that didn’t fully line up with her family’s oddities. Rudy meshes with the Belcher clan entirely too well, Louise thinks with a sigh. Leave it to her to have the mellowest love life in the family. She wanted a rebel and got this awesome trustworthy guy her parents have known as long as she has and who they would probably trust with their lives instead.

(“What kind of loser gets a letterman jacket for music and academic patches?” Louise asks, horrified by the sight before her.

(“This guy!” says Rudy, spinning in a circle to model his new coat. Jessica has yet to stop laughing.

(“You aren’t actually going to put all your junk on that,” Louise says, thinking of the collection of wooly letters and silver pins that Rudy currently keeps in a box under his bed. It’s both impressive and terrifying.

(“What?” says Rudy, turning to look at her with one quirked eyebrow.

(“Thank god I have the option of not being seen in public with the two of you,” Jessica manages to wheeze out. She turns to Rudy. “I think she’s just afraid of you putting out an eye with all those pins. That, or blinding someone when you’re out in direct sunlight.”

(Rudy wrinkles his nose at Louise. “And here I was thinking you’d want to borrow it once I was done getting everything on it.”

(Louise huffs. “Don’t be stupid.”

(She wears it more than Rudy does.)

 

*****

 

"Maybe I’ll regret asking this," says Rudy, "but why did you accept a date night from Tina but not your parents?"

Louise takes a sip of her water and eyes the rest of the restaurant warily. "I don't do business with just anybody," she says, not sure if she's explaining or stalling. "There's a hierarchy. Mom and Dad are not on the same tier as us. They're old, for one thing. And boring."

"But - "

" _So_ boring," Louise continues before Rudy can say something sickeningly sweet about her family again. Gag. "Tina's not exactly the life of the party, but she's more on our level, peer-wise."

Tina also got in good here. Tina’s giving the old college try to dating this guy from King’s Head Island. Sasha, Louise’s mind supplies, because she actually knows this one. Also because who names their kid “Sasha,” regardless of gender? Anyway, his parents manage a restaurant (and what is it about their family that seems to attract other restaurant families, Louise wonders?), a swanky one, and well. Louise had seen something she wanted, and she bribed her way into getting there.

Across the table, Rudy wheezes a little, then loosens his tie. "Um, is Tina footing the bill, too?"

Louise rolls her eyes. "Yes, unless you wanted to swim back home."

Rudy laughs, visibly relaxing. “I'll pay if you stop copying off me in English."

Louise scoops a squash ravioli off his plate and onto her own. “No dice.” It’s an empty threat, just part of the dance they do. Louise hasn’t copied off Rudy without his permission in years, not since the Chloe Barbash Valentine’s Day revelation. Louise knows she likes Rudy for who he is, knows she would never in a million years use him like that. But still, she can’t help associating “cheating off Rudy” with his depressed little face and the anger of knowing someone only liked him because he was useful.

(Sometimes Rudy lets Louise copy off him on purpose because he wants her to get better grades, but that’s different, something they share.)

Now that they’re here, Treats of The Three Impastas is a tad fancy for Louise’s liking. The chandelier in the lobby was Strike One. The waitress who currently won’t stop eyeing Louise and her piercings warily is Strike Two. Louise wishes she had a purse just so she could steal some of this restaurant’s silverware out of spite. She supposes she could put it in Rudy’s bag like always, but she doesn’t want him to get in too much trouble –

The thought causes Louise to spit out her mouthful of food. Since when is she concerned for getting other people in trouble? Since _when_ has she respected Rudy’s boundaries? Who _is_ she? What has Louise Belcher _become_?

“Louise, are you okay?” Rudy, for his part, sounds concerned.

“No,” snaps Louise between hacks. “I’m choking, you dummy.”

“If you can talk, you aren’t choking,” Rudy rebuts, but he doesn’t relax much. His eyes track around the restaurant like Louise's gaze had moments earlier. “We can…” He tries leaning across the table, narrowly avoiding a face full of candle flame before instead scooting his chair closer to Louise’s side.

“We can go if you’re uncomfortable,” Rudy offers, looking around again. “It is kind of ritzy here.”

“Yeah,” says Louise with a sigh. The place is pretty awful. It’s just. It's their first anniversary. Rudy hasn't said anything. Louise doesn't know if he forgot or doesn't realize it, or maybe he's just trying to be cool. Not that she has room to judge if he is, considering she's been playing the whole thing off as a favor from Tina and not something she personally wanted to do.

“I mean, no, it’s nice,” Rudy backtracks. “If you love it, I love it. I love you. I mean, no, I mean – “

“Rudy, stop!” Louise can’t see her face, but from the feel of it, she’s neon pink.

“I mean, I _do_ , like you. A lot,” Rudy rambles on. Maybe it’s just the lighting, but Rudy looks as red as Louise feels. “And oh god, this wasn’t how I meant to say it, but I love you. I think.”

“I would die for you,” Louise says before she can stop herself.

“Oh,” says Rudy, finally stopping his mouth. “Wow. Okay.”

“Good ‘wow, okay,’ or – “

“Good, good,” Rudy replies, fingers drumming on the side of his water glass. Her previous statement scorched the expression clean off his face, but a smile is starting to grow in its wake. “Great, even. It’s, um. It’s our anniversary.”

“Really?” snarks Louise, taking a drink of her water and getting a mouth full of ice cubs to chomp on. She points at the candle in the center of their table. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“It’s nice,” says Rudy. “I mean it, Louise.”

“But?” asks Louise, sensing something else.

“I don’t, um.” Rudy fidgets some more, rearranging his silverware on top of his plate. “Did you see that multiplex on the walk over here?”

“Yeah,” Louise replies.

“Did you have plans after this?” Rudy asks, taking a deep breath. “Because I didn’t plan anything, but this place isn't my favorite, and there’s a midnight showing of the new _Fountains of Gore_ and – ”

“Yep!” Louise throws her napkin – ugh, _cloth_ , who does these people think she is – onto her used plate. “Yep, yep, we’re doing that. Love it! Love everything about it.”

Rudy grins back at her and nods. “Cool. I love you.”

Louise responds by leaning across the table and smashing her mouth against his (much to their waitress’s audible disgust).

 

*****

 

As with all terrible things life, Louise’s first fight with Rudy is caused by one Logan Barry Bush.

("Honestly," Gene reminds her that night as they're walking upstairs, "if you want to go all the way back to the very, very main reason we were all in the same place at the same time, you have to blame Tina."

("Right," says Louise, trying to ignore her stinging knuckles, "but it's not Tina's fault, so we're ignoring that.")

In a nutshell, Tina got published. It started with one short story, and then another, and then another. She sends copies of each anthology she appears in home for Bob and Linda to display on the coffee table. Louise and Gene started flipping through them to critique other stories, compare the other stories to Tina’s works. Somehow the critiques became dramatic readings in the restaurant, and the literary circle expanded. It’s a curious hodgepodge of old classmates and misfit adults; Mister Fischoeder himself drops in every other month.

Unfortunately, Cynthia Bush is one of those adults. She made the mistake of assuming the club was a sign of Real Culture, and then the mistake of being too proud to stop coming. She also made the mistake of bringing Logan Bush into this world twenty some years earlier, so clearly, Louise thinks, she doesn’t have the best track record for making decisions.

Logan being an "adult" (for a given value of adult) had decreased some of his terribleness, but he still wasn't any of the Belchers' favorite person. The feeling was mutual if his habit of waiting outside Bob's Burgers for his mom on the weeks he visited town was any indication.

This particular Sunday was a perfect storm of terribleness, Louise thinks. The book group turnout had been huge, big and hungry enough to keep Louise behind the counter helping out where she could. Even Gene seemed to be bussing dirty dishes for once, much as he adored leading the literary discussions. Louise is throwing a handful of change into the till when she notices Logan loitering outside. She snarls at the back of his head, but he's too busy texting to notice.

It's another hour before she thinks to look outside. She's in the middle of clearing plates off the counter when she realizes she hasn't seen Rudy yet tonight and that she also should make sure Logan is staying in his freakin' lane.

Louise glances up. The first thing she notices is Rudy bopping along outside. He's just at the edge of where she can see him, just coming into view in front of Bob's Burgers. The second thing Louise notices is that Logan is putting his phone away.

The plate in Louise's hands clatters to the floor. She doesn't have time to see if it broke or not. Ignoring both her parents' protests, she races to the door, wrenching it open so she can run outside. If she moves fast enough, nothing can happen. Logan can't hurt Rudy, and _god_ , why does Louise feel like she's reliving the roughest part of being nine years old again?

She plows into Rudy, grabbing his arm to yank him back toward the alley and the storefront next door. Her boyfriend yelps in protest.

Behind her, Louise hears laughter, and something heavy settles in her stomach.

"Don't you usually want the customers to come inside the building before you can chase them away?"

Logan's joking, Louise knows, but it isn't funny.

"Stay out of this, Logan!" she yells back over her shoulder. She keeps moving Rudy backward, less urgently, but they still need space, more space. She focuses on the "For Lease" sign in the window, wondering if that's far enough. Maybe if she keeps pushing Rudy will get the memo and just go home.

"Louise, what... Logan?" Rudy is not with the program, stalling in his tracks. He's not athlete big, but he's just tall and heavy enough to stand his ground against Louise when he needs to. Now is so not one of those times, and yet. Louise huffs and moves behind him. Maybe she can try pulling.

"I'd say don't worry about it, dude," Logan says to Rudy, "this place is a hellhole anyway, but - "

"That's not very nice," replies Rudy.

"No doy," Louise hisses, trying to tug him in the right direction. She can't see Logan, but she can feel that he's still watching them, still trying to figure out their deal.

"Yeah, well," Logan adds after a minute. "You two have fun or whatever. I'm going in now that I know I won't get jumped if I order anything." Louise keeps her eyes fixed on the back of Rudy's neck, not looking at the door until she hears it open and shut, bells jingling.

"So that's Logan," says Rudy, back still turned to Louise.

"Yep," she replies.

"And didn't you - "

" _Nope_ ," says Louise. "Never. Not a single feeling that wasn't about wanting to spit in his fries."

Rudy finally turns to look at her. He reaches for a minute, like he wants to hold her arms or something, but then he lets his hands fall away. "Louise, are you... okay? You're always so weird about him, and his parents when I've seen them around. It's not a huge town."

"It's nothing," Louise replies, hands forming fists. "Just drop it."

Rudy glances at Bob's Burgers, eyeing Logan warily through the glass. "You know you can tell me if you use to - "

"Rudy, stop."

"Louise, it's fine, it isn't that - "

"I didn't _like_ Logan," Louise spits, "he used to bully me!"

Rudy reels like he's been slapped. He looks at Louise, disbelief clear on his face. He looks back at the restaurant, and then at Louise again, his expression hardening. He straightens up.

"Oh my God," says Louise. She can already tell how this is going to go, and the answer is _poorly_. "Rudy, no."

Rudy turns on his heel and heads toward the restaurant.

"Rudy, he's not worth it!" Louise catches up to her boyfriend quickly, grabbing his arm again. "He's a 20-something loser with unresolved anger issues. Let it go!"

"He hurt you!" Rudy is distraught, Louise thinks. It's a look she hasn't seen since they were kids, when everything bad outside his control sent him over the edge. "And he got away with it, too, I bet."

"Yeah, but it was in the past," Louise explains.

"So?" asks Rudy. "He's still a jerk, presently!"

"I don't need you to pick fights for me!" Louise doesn't think. One minute she's talking, and the next she's kicking her boyfriend in the shins.

Rudy yelps again in shock. He looks at Louise, eyes wide. For a minute, she worries that she's crossed some kind of line, that slapping is fine but kicking was a bridge too far. Then Rudy's taking off his letterman jacket and throwing it in her face at the same time he tries to rush the door.

"Hey!" Louise can't see what she's doing with a face full of coat, but she lunges toward the general direction of Rudy. She's low, getting him by the knees instead of the torso, but she tackles him all the same, both of them hitting the pavement. She tries to stay on top, but Rudy rolls on top of her. Louise tries moving up and over at the same time and gets a regular-sized elbow to the chest for her trouble. "Ow!"

"Sorry!" Rudy rolls them again. "But you need to let me go!" He moves to stand up, but Louise moves faster. She throws his jacket over his shoulders then yanks down on the sleeves, bringing him back down to her level.

"Never! Ow!" Louise must have overcompensated because her elbow hits the pavement. Tears spring to her eyes. "Stay out of it, this isn't your fight!"

" _Hey_ , HEY!" comes a new voice. Mom's voice, Louise realizes as she and Rudy stop scrabbling. "Break it up, break it up!" She helps Rudy up first, the traitor. Louise makes a mental note to help Tina book the crappiest nursing home possible when the time comes to send their parents out to pasture.

"Mom," says Louise, as Linda helps her to her feet, "you have to let me - "

"Uh-uh, missy, not this time," Mom replies. Of course her natural instinct is to restrain Louise. She doesn't even look as Rudy darts past them into the restaurant.

"No, no, no, no, no, you don't understand," Louise argues, trying to get past Linda, if she can just move fast enough. "MOM, let me go! Mom!"

"What - " Louise doesn't hear whatever her mom says next because she's too focused on the sight of Regular-Sized Rudy's fist coming into contact with the right side of Logan Barry Bush's head, and whoever taught him how to throw a punch should be taken out back and shot, thinks Louise. She feels a rush of something in her chest - embarrassment or love. Maybe they're the same thing in this case.

" _Oh my God,_ " comes Dad's voice, sounding a little less accepting of the nonsense than usual. After that, it's pandemonium, everyone in the book club or just dining in shouting and whooping.

Louise manages to shake off her mom, throwing the door open wide enough to hit the wall with a bang. Rudy is holding his left hand at a weird angle, but he isn't bleeding, so that's a plus. Logan's also grimacing and holding his right ear like it hurts, but whatever, he can suck it up.

" _Louise Belcher!"_ yells Cynthia Bush. "I should have known you were behind this!"

" _Hey_!" Linda responds, moving in front of Louise. "Don't you use my kid's full name in that tone of voice!"

Cynthia sniffs. "Somebody clearly needs to."

"Cynthia, please," says Bob, coming out from behind the counter. "I'm sure there's a very reasonable explanation for why my daughter's boyfriend punched your son in the head... which as I'm saying it out loud doesn't seem very likely but. It's my restaurant and I'm open to hearing it?"

Logan snorts, turning to look at Rudy and then Louise. "Ha! This nerd is your boyfriend?"

Louise pulls herself up as tall as she can and comes to stand beside Rudy in front of Logan's table. "Yeah, actually, he is. You got something to say about it, Logan?"

"No," says Logan.

"Oh," Louise and Rudy say at the same time. She leans without thinking so that the back of her hand brushes against his.

"I should have expected some dork-ass fight moves from someone who dates a girl with the knife emoji tattooed on her shoulder," Logan mutters so low they almost miss it.

Louise definitely moves faster this time. She also knows how to land a punch right in the middle of someone's face, so she has a lot going for her in life.

“Whoa,” says Zeke from The Grunt’s Booth, drawl making his comment stand out from the rest of the din that's erupted. “I’mma have to start comin’ to book club more often if they’re all like this!”

 

*****

 

“ _Ugh_ ,” Tina groans. Louise can’t see it, but it sounds like her sister just banged her fist on her desk. She’s proven right a few seconds later when Tina raises her hand on the screen and shakes it out. “I hate this part in the narrative!”

“In the what now?” Louise asks.

“She’s become self-aware!” Gene gasps. “Fourth wall, Tina, fourth wall!”

“Sorry,” their sister says. “It’s like… in a book, or a movie, where there’s a dramatic misunderstanding for no reason two-thirds of the way through. You and Rudy need to talk before you do anything.”

“What is there to misunderstand?” Louise asks. “I have enemies. It’s better to break up with Rudy and spare him from having to deal with losers like Logan, or anyone else I’m gonna have to fight in the future.” Anything she can tell herself is better than the truth. It’s totally Logan’s fault her boyfriend slunk off into the night like a kicked dog after the dust settled. Louise might have won, but she can’t shake how defeated Rudy looked, shuffling out of the restaurant long after the last customer.

“Louise, you aren’t Batman,” her sister argues.

“How do you know?” asks Gene. “How can any of us truly know who the Batman is?”

“Someone with way more money, I know that much,” Louise grumbles.

“Guys, focus,” says Tina. Gene and Louise turn back to the laptop between them on the kitchen table. “Louise, are you sure you aren’t just looking for an excuse to break up with Rudy?”

Louise bolts upright. “Wow, T. I see we’re not pulling any punches tonight.” Tina might not be the most book-smart person Louise knows, but she definitely knows emotions. Louise will die before she admits it, though.

“Sorry,” her sister says, backtracking. “You just jumped right to breaking up instead of talking to him about it.”

“Because talking suuuucks,” Louise replies.

Gene hums. “How do we know he’s even mad about it? I mean, it’s Rudy, he’s probably already cool. He’s like a duck, but with trauma rolling off his back instead of water!”

Louise drops her head to the table. “How should I know, I’m not his keeper!”

“No, but you’re his friend,” says Tina, and that makes it worse somehow, Louise thinks. “Friends talk about what’s bothering them. You can do this, Louise.”

“If by ‘this’ you mean ‘break up with Rudy’, then yes, I can do ‘this,’” Louise retorts. She does the air quotes without looking up to see if her hands are facing the camera, but she’s sure the message gets conveyed.

“Awwww,” says a voice that sounds suspiciously like their mother from around the corner.

Louise and Gene turn in their chairs. There’s nobody in the doorway, but the shadows in the hallway move a little more than they should.

“ _What the hell?”_ yells Louise.

“Mom!” shouts Gene. “How long have been standing out here?”

“I’m not,” says the voice in the hall. “I mean, who’s ‘Mom?’ I am the ghost of the little old lady who lived here before you, ooooo.”

“Lin,” says their dad from their bedroom. “They’re sorting it out just fine on their own. Come back to bed.”

“Ugh, fine,” says Mom. “Just tryin’ to see if I can help…”  She sticks her head in the kitchen. “It’s late! It's a school night! Go to bed soon! Make good decisions! Love you!”

Louise waits until she's gone, until the door to her parents' room clicks shut before she stands up. "And with that, I shall take my leave."

 

*****

 

The window to Rudy’s room is locked shut, the blinds drawn but leaking light at the edges.

“Son a bitch,” Louise mumbles as she swings her leg over and onto the fire escape landing. She whacks at the glass with a flat hand. “ _Rudy, open up_.”

The blinds open almost immediately, and Rudy is there, pinched expression on his face. He looks at Louise for a long moment before sighing. He unlocks the window and pushes it open, but he doesn’t make any move to join her outside.

“Louise,” he starts, sounding tired, “I’m so--”

“If the next words out of your mouth are ‘I’m sorry,’ I will backflip off of here,” says Louise.

“Then why are you here?” Rudy asks. “If you didn’t want me to apologize, then I don’t know what you want. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Well that’s tough,” Louise retorts, “because I am.”

Rudy leans his head against the window frame. “Louise, I don’t…”

“What, Rudy?” Louise snaps. “You don’t want me here?”

“Yes!” Rudy flinches at his own outburst. “No. I mean… I don’t know. I feel stupid.”

“Why?” Louise surprises herself by asking. Look at her finally giving this ‘listening’ thing a try.

Rudy stares at her again before answering. His eyes are rimmed with red, and Louise does everything she can to convince herself it’s because he’s having an allergic reaction to something. It’s pollen season, right? She saw that on the news, maybe.

“I tried sticking up for you, and instead it made you angry,” says Rudy. “I just wanted to do something good maybe, and now it’s this whole mess and we’re here.” He gestures at the space between them. “I don’t know. You made me feel stupid for trying to be nice to you.”

“Oh.” It’s definitely pollen season. Louise can tell because there’s something in the air making her eyes itch as well. “Well I mean… you shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why not?” asks Rudy.

Louise puts her hands in her sweatshirt pocket, hands balling into fists. She can’t look at his face anymore. “Maybe because I don’t deserve it.”

“ _Louise_ ,” says Rudy, and his voice sounds so ragged, she can’t look up at him, she just _can’t_ anymore.

“I need to go,” Louise says, and it isn’t until she’s moving back toward the railing that she notices Rudy’s hand outstretched from where he still stands inside his bedroom.

 

 *****

 

Louise hardly feels like her old self the next day at school, but she still jumps on Rudy’s back when she sees him in the hall before classes start. Rudy flails and blushes, and this could maybe go back to normal with a few more conversations. Maybe this whole romance wasn’t a bad idea tacked onto a better friendship.

It will be nice to think that while it lasts, Louise decides.

 

*****  
 

Louise leaves a note in Rudy's locker to meet her on the Wagstaff Elementary playground after school. If Tina thinks this whole situation is cliché, Louise is gonna milk their end-of-relationship drama for all it's worth.

She's smart enough to plan it for Friday. They won't be forced to see each other for a few days if things go south. Knowing Rudy, though, it will end with a stiff upper lip now and tears once he gets home. Or maybe in the car. Or as soon as Louise turns his back on him out here.  


Louise sniffles at the mental image. "Damn it, Rudy."

"What did I do?" asks her soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend, loping across the basketball court toward the swingset. He sits down on the swing next to hers, reaching over to hold her hand.

"Huh," says Louise, looking back to trace his path. "This place seemed a lot bigger back in the day."

"Yeah," Rudy agrees. "Hard to believe it's been so long." He looks over his right shoulder at the slide. "I miss recess."

"Right," Louise says, trying not to throw up. Her stomach is doing some serious cartwheels right about now. "Hey, so. Um." Rudy turns to look at her. "Remember when I met you out here and I told you Chloe didn't want to be your Valentine?"

Rudy keeps smiling, but a little crease forms between his eyebrows. "Yeah?"

"I, uh, I have some more bad news." Without thinking, Louise squeezes his hand tighter.

"Okay." Rudy's adam's apple bobs when he swallows. Louise isn't sure why she notices it, but it beats looking at his face right now. "What is it?"

Louise sighs. "I’m doing what I should have done a long time ago. I... release you."

"You what?" says Rudy, definitely confused now.

Louise looks down at her feet, literally dragging her feet across the mulch. "I _said_ ," she repeats, "I release you. I'm letting you go."

Louise can't see his face, but she can tell Rudy's eyes widen. "Oh my god," he whispers. "Am I dying?"

" _What?_ " Louise snaps her head up to take in his horrified expression. "No! Why would you - no!"

"I mean," Rudy continues, "you can tell me if I am. I can take it."

"Why would I know if you didn't? Never mind," says Louise, waving him off with her free hand. "This isn't about you dying, I'm breaking up with you."

"Oh," says Rudy before his expression fully crumbles. " _Oh_."

"It's not you, it's me," Louise tells him. "I mean, you shouldn't be... crap, this is coming out weird. You should..."

Louise stands, then gestures at the open playground before them. "You should be free! Free live your regular-sized life like the majestic eagle that you are! I'm only going to hold you back!"

"Louise," says Rudy.

"Just... GOD!" Louise screams. "You're so _stupid_ , you can't even see that being with me is the _worst_! You shouldn't have to deal with..." Louise waves wildly in front of her own face and hair and shirt. "Whatever's happening here, and whatever's happening with my family or Logan or our dumb friends. I just - "

"Louise," Rudy interrupts, "you're still holding my hand."

Louise stops. She looks down; sure enough, her right hand is still firmly intertwined with his left. Funny. She hadn't even noticed.

"Oh," she says instead. Louise fights the urge to run off, but she stays standing, too wound up to sit back down on the swing.

The wind whistles between them for a minute before Rudy speaks again.

"Did you really mean all those things?" He's looking at their hands, Louise notices.

"I mean... I guess so," Louise says. The gnawing in the pit of her stomach is back. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was supposed to blow up and scare him away. Now Rudy's talking softly and holding her hand, and he wasn't supposed to see her like this, all... goopy, emotion-wise.

"You deserve better than someone who doesn't want to talk to you when they have a problem," she tells him after another minute of silence.

Rudy snorts. "That's stupid."

Louise doesn't fight the urge to smack his shoulder.

"Ow!" says Rudy. "Hold on, let me get it right." He gets up backwards, takes a step to the side, then jumps over the swing Louise had been sitting on earlier without breaking hand contact.

"I mean, it's always been you for me, Louise," Rudy explains right as her patience is about to run out. "You had my back when no one else did as a kid, and it's just... stupid that you can't see how good you are for me, you know?" He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. "And I want to have your back, too. I mean, the book-club-turned-fight-club thing wasn't so great, but it was just one night, and I acted like an idiot, too. So we're both stupid, but... we should be stupid together, you know?"

Louise laughs a thin laugh, brain still turning over all his words. "I could slap you for that," she tells him.

"You could," Rudy agrees. "You could never get rid of me that easily, remember?"

"You don't..." Louise looks at their feet, turns to look around the playground, finally focusing on the tip of one of his ears. "You aren't just saying that, right? I mean, you'd tell me if you wanted to break up. If you didn't want a girlfriend who slaps you when she's really feelin' it."

Rudy smiles, and the knot in Louise's chest loosens. "Yes," he tells her. "Yes I would."

"Good," says Louise, leaning in to wrap her arms around his waist. It was a stupid plan anyway.

Rudy hugs her back for a long minute before a loud _crack_ makes him jump. Louise is about to make a joke about being a chicken when the first _plop_ of rain hits her square between the eyes and interrupts her thoughts.

"Do you, uh..." Rudy looks up at the clouds then back at her. "Do you want a ride home? Save this breaking up thing for a different rainy day?"

"Ugh," Louise sighs, sounding sufficiently frustrated. "That was such a lame thing to say right now." She leans into Rudy's side to let him know she doesn't mean it, though. "And yes, I do."

 

*****

 

"Heyyyy, you," says Mom as Louise walks in the restaurant. “There’s my little lady.”

Louise walks over to the counter, water dripping off her to puddle on the floor in her wake. She plops down onto a stool with a squeak and puts her head on the counter. Mom pats the top of her hair.

“It’s okay, baby,” Linda says, tone disturbingly quiet for her mother.

“Lin, we said we weren’t going to be weird about it,” her dad hisses from the kitchen.

“I didn’t break up with Rudy.” Louise has to yell so her voice isn’t as muffled by her arms and the counter. “We just talked a lot and now I’m tired.”

“Oh thank God,” says Dad.

“Oh good,” says Mom with a whooshing sigh. “Good good good.” She pats Louise on the head again. From the way her voice sounds farther away, Louise is pretty sure she’s turned back to the order window. “I wasn’t sure what we were going to do if she was really depressed.”

“You could give me money.” Louise suggests.

“Pass,” says Dad.

“Fewer shifts at the restaurant?” Louise moves to prop her chin up so she can look at her parents.

“No,” Bob says. “And why are you negotiating now?”

“Your window of opportunity closed, Miss Missy,” says Mom, handing Louise a dishrag to wipe off the counter where she’d just been lying.

“Damn it,” Louise growls, mopping up the rainwater like a schmuck. “I’m losing my edge.”

“Eh, it’ll come back to ya,” Linda says. “Today is just one day. Shake it off, get a good night’s sleep, throw some rocks at some cars, and you’ll have your moxie back in no time.”

“Lin,” sighs Dad.

“What?”

“Louise, don’t throw rocks at cars,” Bob tells her, voice louder to carry across the restaurant.

Louise wrinkles her nose and sticks her tongue out in reply. “I promise nothing.”

“There you go!” Mom chirps. “There she is, Bobby, good as new.”

Dad rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to the grill.

 

*****

 

Louise has the vaguest of plans, the inkling of an idea. It formed two weeks ago, when tickets for prom went on sale, and Harley lost her goddamn mind.

“EEEEEEEE!” said Harley as Louise approached her locker. “You have to ask Rudy, you have to YOU HAVE TO, because he already told us he wasn’t going if you weren’t going, and our group needs to have six to get a reservation anywhere in town within the next few months.”

Louise looked over her shoulder and around the hallway. “Are you talking to me?”

Harley grabbed Louise’s attention by grabbing both of her hands. “Prom,” she said. “ _Proooooommmm_!”

“Whoa,” said Louise, having a mild flashback to the year Tina was on the dance committee and somehow convinced her class _Night of the Living Dead_ was a worthy theme.

“Yup,” said Jessica from behind Louise, “she’s gone full prombie.”

Louise yanked her hands free and crosses her arms over her chest. “What group are you even talking about?”

Harley lit up. “Our group! Me and Jessica and Andy and Ollie, but not as, like, couples, unless the school makes us couple-up at grand march. Just friends!”

Louise turned to Jessica, who had some shifty eyes all of a sudden. “You,” Louise said. “You want to go to prom, voluntarily? You wanna wear a goofy dress and dance in the gym and drink crappy punch and make small talk with the losers we see every day here?”

“Yeah,” said Jessica, looking back at Louise. “Basically.”

“Oh,” said Louise. She looked at her friend, then back at Harley. “I guess… okay. I’ll make Rudy come with.”

“YAAAAY!” yelled Harley, deaf to Louise and Jessica shushing her.

Anyway, Louise has a plan. Partially. She’s not sure how much credit she can really take since she’s piggybacking off of Rudy’s plan. She’s going to slip the prom tickets into his bag while they’re on the date he has planned for them tonight. It’ll be fun, she thinks. If he hasn’t found them by the end of the night, she’ll beat him over the head with the tickets and explain using real words.

Of course, any nerves she might have had vanish when Rudy pulls into the Museum of Natural History parking lot. Then the whole affair is hi-freaking-larious. Louise’s night – nay _weekend_ – is officially made, even before Rudy makes them race to the death to get out, and Louise _doesn’t_ get caught, okay? She chooses to leave of her own free will to make things easier for Rudy to find his tickets. So what if she bails at the same time she notices several security guards circling the exhibit she had been hiding in?

"Made it to six and decided to quit while I was ahead," Rudy says as he struts down the museum entrance stairs toward Louise.

Louise balls up her copy of the map and chucks it at his head. "Damn it! You know, I'm almost happy I lost. This is great, actually, because _my_ date night is going to blow your date night out of the water. My date night is going to chew up this date night and then spit it out, just for a cheap thrill."

"You have something planned already?" Rudy asks. "Wow, you must have been out here even longer than I realized."

Louise growls, heart finally rising to catch in her throat. " _Just_... check the front zippered pocket on your purse, idiot."

Rudy frowns, moving his back so he can unzip the front pouch and reach in. "It's..." He pulls the papers free and nearly drops them in shock when he sees the cursive font on the front. "Two tickets to prom?"

"Yeah, I snuck them in your bag earlier when I was getting your inhaler," Louise explains. Her stomach does a somersault, but her voice stays even. "Pretty sneaky."

"Yeah." Rudy really seems at a loss for what to say. He's blinking a lot and not looking at Louise, which doesn't bode well.

"You don't... we don't have to do it." Louise looks down at the loose gravel she'd been kicking onto his shoes. "I just thought, we never do 'couple-couple' stuff, you know? And God knows that _I_ don't like to do that stuff, but I know you do, and I thought we- _you_ might want to do this before we graduate." She shrugs. "Besides, if we go and it's lame we can always bail on the dance and have our own kind of fun."

She looks back up in time to catch Rudy’s beaming at her. His face is still _so unfai r. _"I'd like that."

Louise returns his smile. Behind them, the doors to the Museum of Natural History bang open.

Louise and Rudy spin around to see all the guards and guides most holy swarming the top of the staircase.

"Run now, celebrate later?" Rudy asks.

"Good plan," Louise agrees, grabbing Rudy’s hand. She doesn’t let go as they cross the parking lot, as Rudy fumbles with his keys and they peel out of the parking lot with museum security on their tail and "Tubthumping" blasting from the car speakers. 

 

*****

 

Out of Parm’s Way is the fourth restaurant Louise has pulled the “it’s my boyfriend’s birthday and I want to embarrass him” stunt at, but it’s somehow the first one to provide actual dessert as a result. Louise does a tiny victorious fist pump under the table, admiring the pretty rosettes piped on top of the cupcake before being stung with the realization that, oh yeah, Rudy has a gluten allergy.

She’s about to apologize, about to ask the waiter if they have anything else as a substitute, when Rudy picks up the cupcake and bites into it.

“Hey!” Louise really doesn’t know what to say, but it has to be loud and startle him into knocking it off.

Across the table, Rudy pauses. He makes eye contact with Louise, staring her down as he takes another slow bite out of the cake.

“Rudy, you’re allergic to flour,” Louise reminds him sharply. She is not worried about his wellbeing. She is _not_. She just hates it when people act stupid. “You’re gonna get sick.”

“Yep,” Rudy assents. “And it’s gonna be worth every minute of it.”

Louise leans back in her chair and rolls her eyes. Whatever. She always did admire his tenacity.

 

*****

 

“What about Rudy’s?” says Dad during a special Saturday Evening Edition of Burn Unit.

Louise scowls back at him, mostly for talking during the show. “Rudy’s what?”

“No, Rudy’s the restaurant,” Dad clarifies. “The one your mom and I like to go to on date nights.”

“You mean the one _you_ like to go to,” Louise replies.

Bob shrugs. “It’s good.” He frowns. “Wait. Is Rudy’s dad the owner of that place? Big Rudy?”

“No, Big Rudy is Pocket-Sized Rudy’s dad,” Louise explains.

“Huh,” says Dad. “Lotta Rudys in this town.”

"Which reminds me," Louise adds. "I need to borrow your credit card."

Bob frowns, blue light illuminating the left half of his face. "For?"

Louise stares at the TV screen like she might die if she turns away. "Prom dress shopping."

She hears her dad snort. "No, seriously," he says. "What do you need it for?" He lowers his voice. "Are you... in trouble? I mean, you can tell me if you are. I might not want to know, but still. You can tell me what you really need money for."

"I need. A dress," Louise growls, still staring straight ahead. "For prom."

From the corner of her eye, Louise sees Dad relax, just a tad. "Can't you borrow one of Tina's or Gene's?"

"Dad," says Louise, staring him down until he cracks.

Bob signs. "Fine. Just don't cut this one into a throwing star."

"Again, no promises," says Louise, flipping channels until she lands on Winona Ryder writing about her teenage angst having a bodycount.

"Louise," says Dad. She ignores him. " _Louise_."

"LOUISE, ANSWER HIM!" Gene yells through the wall of his room.

"Whaaaat?" Louise replies, tossing her head onto the back of the couch.

"Oh my God," Dad grumbles, "why is having a conversation around here so difficult."

Louise lolls her head to the side. "Is there something you wish to say, father?"

"Yes, fine," says Bob. "I think it's nice that you're wanting to go to prom, but I want you to know it's okay if you don't. Or if you want to do something different. I know it probably feels like you're always the one moving things along, but Rudy's pretty good about keeping pace. With you."

Louise feels a knot she didn't even know she had loosen in her stomach. "Oh. You don't..." She looks back at the TV, then out the window even though she's at the wrong angle to actually see anything. "I mean, jeez, Dad, how many times did you practice that speech? It's fine. We're cool."

"I know," Dad tells her. "And I doubt that will change any time soon. Just... don't worry about what everyone else wants to do. You and Rudy can do whatever you want to, as long as it makes you happy."

" _Whatever_ I want to?" asks Louise.

"Mmmm, no," says Dad, "because the way you asked that makes me think it's something definitely illegal."

Louise snorts, then sinks lower into the couch cushions. "Yeah," she says, "you're right. And you're right about Rudy. I mean, if kissing him seven, eight years ago didn't scare him away, I doubt anything actually weird will."

"Wait, what?" Bob frowns. "How many years ago?"

"Don't worry about it," says Louise, "it's nothing."

"But - "

"Shhh shh shhh," Louise says, turning the volume up on the television.

 

*****

 

Louise makes a list of requirements for this hypothetical “prom dress.”

  1. No sparkly crap
  2. No two-pieces (who wants to show off that one weirdly-specific strip of skin?)
  3. STRAPS PLEASE
  4. Nothing with too much cleavage (“You and cleavage? Not possible, honey!” says Gene. Louise is quick to smack him with her clipboard.)
  5. No flowers
  6. No trains/flowy shit
  7. Nothing with the word “princess” in the description



It’s simple, really. Get in, find a dress that matches those exact specifications, get out. She doesn’t get why Tina is groaning while looking it over for the fourth time today. At least she’s looking at it though, unlike Gene, who’s pulling dresses off the racks willy-nilly and tossing them in an open dressing room. He stops to match fabric colors with her skin tone every so often; Louise doesn’t know if that makes it better or worse.

“Oh look,” Tina is saying, “There’s one that matches all your -- oh wait, there’s a flower on the other side. We can cut it off though, maybe.”

“This is stupid,” says Louise, swatting her way through another aisle full of tulle. She comes out the other side to a wad of satin being waved in her face. “Ahhh, Gene! Stop!”

“Never!” retorts her brother, looking at the dress in his hands again. “Green is your power color, but we have to find the right shade since you’re an Autumn. Otherwise we’d have a disaster on our hands.”

“The real disaster would be if Mom found out we were here without her,” says Louise. “You guys didn’t say anything, right?”

“Yes,” both Tina and Gene groan in unison.

“Ooo, what about this one?” says Gene, holding up a new bling-soaked thing. “It looks like it’s from _Moulin Rouge_ , and who doesn’t love _Moulin Rouge_ , especially impressionable high school theater kids?”

“I hate that movie,” says Louise, meaning she hates how much it makes Gene and Tina cry when the three of them watch it together.

“You lie,” counters Gene. “A main character dies at the end AND no one gets married. Those are two of your benchmarks for quality cinema.”

“Wrong,” says Louise. “It’s a musical, that equals negative points.”

Tina sighs, taking a step backwards, and rams one of the rocks with her shoulder. “Ow, son of a bitch! Sorry.” She kneels, and Louise and Gene drop to the ground beside her to collect the gowns that have fallen. Something green and half-melted catches Louise’s eye.

“Hang on,” says Louise, reaching for the mutated dress. “What’s that?”

“What, the swearing?” asks Gene. “Because you’ve definitely done worse and I’ve definitely heard you say worse.”

Louise stands, still holding the dress. It’s a plain green, with what might have been sequins at one point but look more like little burns, like really aggressive polka dots. The zipper is melted into one piece, and the hem is – for lack of a better word – drippy. Gene and Tina “ooo” in appreciation.

“It’s like the Two-Face of prom dresses!” says Gene.

“I think this is the one,” Louise replies, turning it over in her hands. “I mean, it needs some work.”

“I suppose,” says Tina. “Like if you cut off the bottom and re-hemmed the skirt I guess – ”

“We could burn the edges of the sleeves to match the skirt,” Gene suggests.

“YES!” Louise exclaims.

“Oh, okay,” says Tina. “We can do that, I guess. Wow, and I’m really glad now that you didn’t borrow one of my dresses.”

Louise beams at her brother and sister. “Gene, what have your trashion sense turned up in the way of shoes lately? Suddenly I’m feeling fancy.”

 

*****

   

Louise leans out the living room window down at the street and her approaching boyfriend. “WOW, GET A LOAD OF THIS NERD!”

“LOUISE!” her mom yells from the kitchen.

Rudy look up to make sure her parents can’t see him before flipping her off. Louise laughs, her heart feeling full. He disappears into their building and makes his way upstairs.

He stops at the top landing to catch his breath. “I think I’m sweating,” he mutters in between pants, and Louise doesn’t know why she can’t stop the smile breaking across her face.

“Sick,” she says. She holds out her left hand. “Are you ready for one last happy moment before we disappoint our parents?”

Rudy’s brow wrinkles, and he pats his pockets.

“No, not yet!” Louise preemptively scolds. “Alcohol stays in your jacket until we’re at the dance and we can put in the punch bowl.”

“I’m not looking for the flask, I’m looking for – ha!” Rudy retrieves a clump of what looks like grass and leaves from his right coat pocket.

“I don’t know what that is, but it doesn’t look any less incriminating,” Louise tells him as she walks closer.

“It is,” says Rudy, grabbing her left arm. Apparently it’s a really crappy corsage, because it’s got an elastic band and then Rudy’s sliding it onto her hand. “Ta-da!”

“It’s… crap,” says Louise before getting a better look at it. “No, wait, are these weeds? Actual weeds? I know I let you pick the flowers because of your allergies but – “

“They’re love weeds!” Rudy explains. “You get it? Because of… Now that I’m saying it, it really does sound stupid.”

Louise sniffs. Maybe _she_ can play her reactions off as being allergies this time. “They’re great, really. That’s really nice, Rudy.”

Rudy smiles. Louise is this close to pulling him forward for a hug when Rudy takes a step backward, giving her an up-and-down look. “Oh, _wow_ ,” he says, his eyes getting a little wider. “You look awesome.”

“I know, right?” Louise replies. “I mean, thank you. It was partially burnt at the store, and then Gene and Tina helped me do more on the sleeves. I’m gonna take it out back and finish the entire job tomorrow.”

“Louise, don’t do arson,” says Bob, coming into the living room from the kitchen.

“But it’s _my_ property!” Louise argues. “And it’s not like a building or anything architectuctural!”

Rudy raises an eyebrow. “SAT word bonus.”

“Alright, it’s picture time!” Linda announces, entering the living room with a chunky digital camera. Louise rolls her eyes, and her dad backs out into the hallway. “Everybody smile! Look like you like each other!”

“Don’t worry, we do,” Rudy replies, dutifully going to stand by Louise between the couch and the TV.

Twelve million photographs and only half as many embarrassing comments later, Louise finds herself out on the street in front of the restaurant. She pushes her face up against the glass, peering inside as Rudy closes the door to her family’s apartment. He comes to stand next to her, face half turned to he can watch her.

“So,” he asks. “What’s for supper?”

Louise groans. “How much do you think Jessica will kill us if we skip the group dinner over at Pesto’s?”

“A lot, probably,” Rudy replies. He purses his lips, thinking. “I could always fake an allergic reaction, I guess.”

It’s Louise’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t.”

Rudy grins. “I’m a wild card tonight. I have the weed, alcohol, and albuterol to prove it.”

“Wow,” says Louise, trying not to laugh as she turns toward the street. “Elvis Mitchell’s got nothing on you.”

Rudy grabs her hand as they walk toward Pesto’s. “Do you think your dad’s place will still be open after the dance?”

“I think I know a guy who can pull some strings and make it happen,” Louise replies.

“Good,” says Rudy, “because I’m pretty sure a guy could work up an appetite after three straight hours of dancing.”

“Oh, you definitely will,” Louise tells him. “I’m going to whip you around like the square-dancing unit we had in Junior High.”

Rudy slings an arm around her shoulders and laughs. “Please don’t.”

“We shall see,” says Louise, leaning into his side. “By the way, I’m thinking tonight we discuss taking our relationship to the next level.”

Rudy trips on the curb, the arm he has over Louise’s shoulder nearly dragging her down with him. Fortunately she’s strong enough to keep them both upright.

“The next… what next level is that?” Rudy wheezes.

Louise stares back at him, hoping to pack as much mischief into her grin as possible. “Matching tattoos.”

Rudy laughs loud enough to make the people inside the restaurant look up. “Discuss away,” he says, opening the door for her.

 


End file.
